


HDDF for screen readers

by StubbornDodecahedron



Series: Hot Disaster Dumbass Factory [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - College/University, Beforus Ancestors, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Drug Use, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Minor Jake English/Dirk Strider, Minor Kanaya Maryam/Karkat Vantas Moirallegiance, Minor Rose Lalonde/Kanaya Maryam, Mituna Captor/Kurloz Makara Moirallegiance, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Panic Attacks, Roxy Lalonde/Dirk Strider Moirallegiance, Screen Reader Friendly, Trolls on Earth (Homestuck), ample lead up to heavy angst, everyone is a hot mess but it's gonna be okay, optional sexy parts linked in text for all you thirsty people, panic attack has a tw at the begining of the chapter, soft blackrom, sollux ♠ roxy, sollux ♡ gamzee, sollux ♢ dave, text to speech compatible
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:41:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 202,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25563007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StubbornDodecahedron/pseuds/StubbornDodecahedron
Summary: This is an (in-progress) re-edited version of Hot Disaster Dumbass Factory optimized for Text-to-Speech.Section titles have been turned into headers (with tags) for easier navigation, italic and bold tags have been replaced with emphasis and strong tags, some spellings have been changed to correct Text-to-speech errors, and typing quirks that alter pronunciation have been removed.pesterlog formatting has been slightly altered for better understanding of who is speaking when chum handles are the same letters.For the visually oriented version of this ficclick here
Relationships: Roxy Lalonde & Dirk Strider, Sollux Captor/Dave Strider, Sollux Captor/Gamzee Makara, Sollux Captor/Roxy Lalonde
Series: Hot Disaster Dumbass Factory [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1275281
Comments: 10
Kudos: 9





	1. Better Late Than Never

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> going to make this a bit more screen reader friendly as a whole. bear with me for a moment. 
> 
> input appreciated.

#  Your name is DAVE STRIDER and you are about to hock your turntables.

It's taking every ounce of self-control you possess to keep your cool and not haul ass out of this pawn shop. The clerk is giving your sweet setup the once over and making skeptical old man thinking sounds as he does it. As if your gear is anything but choice. You came to this shop specifically because of its reputation for moving audio and audio related things. You're more likely to squeeze a few extra bucks out of the guy if he can turn over your stuff quickly. He finally looks back up at you, trying to meet your gaze behind your shades. "500," he says flat and definitive. You bite back the urge to flip off the handle and instead respond back just as flatly. "These are pro grade, brand name, and nowhere near out of date. They aren't hot either." The old man's mustache jostles back and forth as he mutters to himself. "This is a pawn shop kid, ya ain't gettin top dollar." You press your mouth into a thin line and bob your head as you think and look at the stuff around you. Even if it is a pawn shop, he's still trying to rip you off in hopes that you're desperate enough to bite. You're eyes catch a digital setup that is one hell of a step down from what you have, but not the bottom of the barrel. "Throw in that and I'll take the 500." Keep it cool, Strider, you're not desperate, just cleaning house. Just keeping it real. Keep it together. You've got this. Your internal monolog is thankfully interrupted from its endless loop by the clerk abruptly jutting out his hand to seal the deal and you swear the sudden movement knocks 3 years off your life.

The second you get back to the apartment you begin frantically packing up your shit. Bro landed some big out of state gig which has made this plan HELLA easier, but still INCREDIBLY nerve-wracking. You suspect Dirk may have had a hand in securing that gig for Bro, but you can't be certain because you haven't been able to truly have a conversation with the guy in years. Since Bro kicked him out, the two of you have had to primarily communicate by passing notes through mutual friends over secure connections.

You began hatching this plan about two years ago, which feels insane now that the day has finally come. By some miracle your community college credits transferred and you got off the waitlist for a university far away from Houston, but more importantly, far away from Bro . You're going to be a week late getting there, but that's fine by you if it means a better chance of not getting caught leaving. Maybe it's just paranoia, which isn't in short supply, that's for sure, but it feels like Bro has been kicking your ass harder lately almost like he knows something is up. Your last strife before he took off was all hells of brutal. You don't want to think about what he would do if he caught you acting like such a coward. Your body aches with protest as you continue shoving clothes indiscriminately into one of those drawstring backpacks that seem to be bottomless and going over your mental checklist.

You have your new shitty turntables and audio gear nestled in with your camera stuff and your laptop in a duffle bag. It was a bitch to get that in a box all together like that, but you know you'll thank yourself later when it's easier to carry. Your records, however, are packed up tight in a separate box. Like hell are you leaving them behind. So that's it. Two boxes. Aside from your clothes, everything you value most fits in two boxes. Those are shipping out after you. Dirk pulled some strings with a friend of his. He didn't trust shipping your stuff to his apartment or the school, so instead you're sending them to an electronics shop nearby, Zahhak's or something like that.

Your phone buzzes. The uber to get you out of this place is here. You glance around the room one last time to make sure you aren't forgetting anything. You can't believe this is actually happening. The knock at the door makes you jump, and for a split second, you think it's Bro before remembering that 1. Bro wouldn't knock, and 2. you're paying the driver a little extra under the table to help you carry down this stuff. In addition to that last strife, you and the stairs became very well acquainted recently and you are still very much feeling it. When you answer the door you find out your driver is a Troll and a psy-onic if you're not mistaken. You are no expert on their whole blood superpowers deal but, yeah no, that's telekinesis happening to your stuff right there. No wonder she was so willing to agree to haul your stuff.

You drop your shit off at UPS before embarking on the world's least comfortable bus ride. Even hours into it your nerves are still wracked and you're too on edge to sleep. No one would ever guess though. You've got that expressionless cool kid thing on lock. Set it to autopilot and watch it go. You've got this. totally. 100%. Making it happen.

* * *

#  Your name is SOLLUX CAPTOR and you are in the zone with this project, but this is the second time you've picked up this coffee cup only to be met with disappointment.

You look at your computer screen, then back to your empty coffee cup, and then to the door of your dorm room. With a sigh, you remove yourself from your chair. When you stand up your back cracks in three places and it is amazing. You glance at the clock and realize you've worked straight through very late and right into very early. Eh, doesn't matter; time is irrelevant. Plus now you can go to the cafeteria instead of the cafe, which means less of a distance for you to walk and less time away from your project. You hadn't really been feeling it when it was first assigned, but it had grown on you when you realized you could repurpose one of your abandoned projects for it. You have a DISGUSTING amount of ABANDONED projects. It's almost on parr with the backlog of games in your Steam library.

Your best friend's dorm is across the hall from you. Well, sort of. Your dorm has a DOUBLE HALLWAY because your life is plagued with duality, not that you particularly mind that. The building has dorm rooms on either outer side, and down the center at either end are staircases, with the elevator in the middle next to the R A's room. You're fairly certain this would violate a fire code if not for the recently added, yet still somehow shitty fire escape that runs down the short side of the building. The last rooms on either side of the horseshoe can see each other's doors. Karkat's is directly across and presently there is someone with a large duffle bag at his door.

"Come on, open up. I know you're in there. No one wakes up this early on a Saturday." A red zip hoodie that looks more expensive than need be, black jeans that somehow scrunch perfectly at the bottom to show off red hi-top sneakers, and Black aviator shades while indoors. He looks like a douche. Then again, no one would describe you as fashionable. 

"He's not there," you say. The guy groans and leans back against the door. You narrow your eyes at him. Now that he's facing you, you think you've seen him before. "You're Karkat's roommate, right? You showed up like a week late or something." He looks up at you with a blank expression before raising an eyebrow and flashing you a charming smile.

"Yeah, Dave Strider, the pleasure's all yours I'm sure." You were right the first time, he's a douche bag. The most obnoxious ringtone goes off and he takes out his phone, his face going back to the aloof, steeled expression as he reads a text message. "Hey, that's your dorm right?" he asked, gesturing with his chin at the door behind you. Before you can answer, he continues. "Could I maybe leave my shit in your room for a bit? I'm locked out and I've gotta uhh... be someplace like five minutes ago." He flashes you that fake charming grin again. What could it hurt? If he's Karkat's roommate then you're definitely going to know him better eventually. Better to let it be a surprise that you're an ass. It's more entertaining that way. 

"Yeah, sure, whatever." You say with a shrug and reopen your door for him. He picks up the bag and hurries over. 

"Sweet, I'll be back in a few hours. You gonna be around?" Wow, how extraordinarily specific. He's lucky you're a shut-in.

"I'm not going anywhere." He gives you a nod and says he owes you one as he disappears down the stairs, literally. The guy is fucking quick. You could swear you only saw his after image.

You relock your door and continue down the stairs on your quest for caffeine. In the entrance lobby, you spy Roxy sitting behind the check-in desk. She looks like she's still wearing last night's clothes and definitely wearing last nights eyeliner. Her hot pink laptop is in front of her and she's glaring at the screen like it has personally insulted her. You leave her too it, but on the way back, with your coffee now secured, you wander around to the other side to look over her shoulder.

"Your code is spaghetti" You comment as you watch her scroll through it presumably trying to hunt down a missing bracket. She has a particular glare reserved exclusively for that. 

"Sure is a weird way to pronounce 'complex'." She grumbles back. You see the errant bracket before she does and gently swat away her hand so you can add it in. She makes a sound of offense as she looks up and back at you. "You little shit."

A smug grin is plastered on your face and is doing little to save you from her wrath. Luckily you brought a peace offering. You reveal the second cup of coffee just as she's about to go off on you, and watch as her mouth slowly closes into something resembling a pout and her eyes narrow at you.

"Three sugars?" she asks.

"Unfortunately, yes." You are a two sugars kind of guy to no one's surprise. Her expression softens as she snatches up the cup and takes a long sip.

"I'll let you live this time, Captor."

"eh heh heh heh."

She flips you off as you leave.

It is several hours later, not that you noticed, when you just barely hear a knock at your door through your headphones. It's not so much of a knock as it is a rhythmic beat. After nearly clotheslining yourself with the cable of your headphones, you make your way over to the door and open it to find Strider leaning against the frame. "Sup." He says with a tilt of his chin. You wordlessly step aside and open the door for him so he can get his shit and get out. You're almost offended when he unzips the bag to check that it's all still there. 

"I didn't jack any of your shit," although now you're curious about what exactly his shit is if it's so worth being jacked. "What's in there that's so important that you'd think I'd steal it?" Or maybe it's not expensive; maybe it's illegal. You peer over his shoulder trying to get a look. "If it's drugs, sharing is caring." This earns you the most unemotive laugh you've ever heard in your life, the pinnacle of aloof cool kid sounds of mild amusement. Another tally on the douche counter.

"Chill, man," he says "It's electronics." Oh, well now that is something worth checking. Seeing your interest piqued, he turns to the side to show you what looks like some kind of audio equipment jumbled in with some other stuff and a laptop. Not in a case or anything, just a laptop tossed in a bag full of equal or more breakable objects. 

"Jeez, who taught you how to transport your gear." 

"I was in a rush," he says with a shrug. Your palm husk vibrates and you look to see that Karkat is messaging you.

carcinoGeneticist [C G] began trolling twinArmageddons [T A ].

C G: I WOULD LIKE TO REDEEM A SOLID.

This does not bode well for you.

T A: yes?

C G: APPARENTLY MY DUMBASS OF A ROOMMATE HAS LOCKED HIMSELF OUT AFTER BEING HERE FOR A GRAND TOTAL OF 2 DAYS AND I'M NOT GOING TO BE BACK UNTIL SUNDAY AFTERNOON. SEEING AS YOU LACK A ROOMMATE, CAN SHIT FOR BRAINS CRASH IN YOUR ROOM UNTIL I GET BACK TOMORROW?

C G: I PROMISE HE ISN'T A SERIAL KILLER.

You look up from your palm husk at Dave who is staring back at you expectantly as if he knows Karkat is messaging you. You don't normally just let people occupy your space, especially people who are practically strangers. And while Karkat is vouching for him, he doesn't know this guy too well either. And yet, something seems to sway you, although you can't quite place it.

T A : you owe me

C G: WHAT? NO! THIS IS A SOLID REDEMPTION. I HAVE A VOUCHER FOR ONE (1) SOLID FROM SOLLUX "GOT HIS POPTARTS STUCK IN THE VENDING MACHINE" CAPTOR. IT'S SIGNED AND NOTARIZED.

T A: this is clearly worth at least two solids leaving you at -1 solids.

T A: you owe me a solid.

C G: FINE. WHATEVER.

You tuck your palm husk back in your pocket and glance back at Dave. "You owe me a solid," might as well make it a two for one deal. "The top bunk is mine. You can crash on the bottom one." You mostly use that one as a seating area. The idea of people sitting or lounging around on your bed is uncomfortable. It's not a thing you let people do. That is your sanctuary and yours alone. Although for some reason you could not give less of a fuck when it's the other way around, and in fact have been known to walk into Karkat's room like you own the joint and make yourself at home on his bed.

Dave flashes you a grin. "Sweet deal." He looks like he's about to continue or elaborate, but as he goes to stand up he's cut off by a hiss of pain and grabs his side, causing him to nearly drop his laptop. The sudden shift in the room's atmosphere catches you off your guard. 

"You alright?" It is truly the most brilliant thing you've ever said. A shining monument to your social prowess and you just sort of stand there unsure how to respond to having a stranger collapse on your floor. Well, not collapse so much as fail miserably at becoming upright. 

"Yeah, I'm cool. So cool. Cooler than a polar bear throwing back only the highest of high fructose soda. None of that RC cola. Name brand." Dave says from his position half crouched on the floor. His voice is slightly strained as if he's trying not to take too deep of a breath. "Just moved wrong. I'm good." It doesn't take someone as smart as you to realize he's lying through his teeth. 

"You must make a lot of money selling such high-quality bullshit." You deadpan back at him out of habit and instantly regret. It makes him laugh which only has him holding his side a little tighter. You feel a bit bad about it. With a sigh, you offer him your hand and after a moment of staring at it, he finally takes it and lets you pull him to his feet. The way he crashes into your shoulder and steadies himself with his hand on your arm does an awful thing to your stomach that you choose to ignore. "Your ribs are busted, huh?" You only half ask. Mituna had managed that twice. Once on concrete and another time on asphalt. He was a lot louder about it than Dave is being though, so maybe not. 

"Nah, hella bruised, but not broken," he says as he carefully takes a seat on the bed.

You nod, unsure of where to take this fascinatingly awkward conversation. "Cool, so..." you start as you make your way back to your desk. You really need to get a new chair. There is no way to sit in this one that resembles comfortable. You settle for sitting sideways slouched halfway against the armrest and the back with one leg hanging over the opposite armrest and the other tucked beneath it. Your spine hates you. "yeah, I'm just gonna continue working on this. You can do whatever, just don't touch my bees." You say as you slip on your headphones and prepare to get back into the zone. Bringing your standard beehouses to the dorm is not allowed, of course, you wouldn't want to anyway, but you do have a small form factor beehouse jammed in one of the windows. It hasn't quite gotten cold enough yet that you need to bring it completely inside, so, for now, you're letting your bees roam as they please. 

You've only been at it for a few minutes when you sense Dave standing close behind you. Music paused, you slowly look up and back at him. "Can I help you?" He seems completely oblivious to your mildly annoyed tone. 

"Nah, just checking out your mad matrix skills." Oh boy, here we go. "My bro does some of that crazy computer stuff. My cousin too. It's all fucking magic to me, but it looks cool." 

You roll your eyes. "I would have never guessed," you say with a small huff. "If they don't hate each other, I'm gonna take a stab in the dark and say that they don't do the same 'computer stuff'." He gives a shrug and wanders back over to the bed where his laptop is open. You look back at your screen and the wall of text on it. Your groove is gone. The zone is closed. It's down for maintenance, check back later. You sigh, save your work, and close your windows. "You smash bro's?" you ask in a somewhat defeated tone having resigned to being social tonight. He looks up from his computer and puts a hand to his chest.

"I'm flattered, Skinny. Really I am, but--"

"Oh my god, no, you complete fucknut. Super Smash Bro's. Do you play it?" The subtle smirk on his face tells you he knew exactly what you meant. Was he just trying to get you to say that because of your lisp? Asshole. You throw your hands up in the air and let them fall in a dramatic fashion as you turn to get a controller before whipping back around. "And my name is Sollux, not Skinny." You turn on the console and press a button on the small switch box by your monitor to change the input to it instead of your computer. "If you're playing, grab a controller." You gesture to the bin of video game accessories next to your desk. You really ought to sort it out before it gets any more tangled than it is. Okay so, full disclosure, this is totally a test. It's a test that Strider fails miserably. The only way he could have failed harder was if he picked the wiimote without the nun-chuck. Even that is debatable. You could chalk that up to ignorance, but this was a choice. The nun-chuck wasn't connected; He sought it out. "You've gotta be kidding me." You eye his decision with blatant judgment as he goes back to the bed. The guy just shrugs and offers an innocent 'what?' in response. You scoot your chair back and fire up the game using the only acceptable controller. Now for the second test. Time to see who this fucker selects. You pick Pikachu and fully expect to have to wait for Dave to scroll through all the characters a few times, but he's already selected and changing to an alternate skin. "Link?" you ask, one eyebrow raised up like it's trying to party with your hair.

"Yeah, bro, don't dis my hero of time like that." He plays it so straight that you wonder if he actually mains Link and isn't just fucking with you. Whatever, his funeral.

"I'm going to destroy you."


	2. Tits and Ass

# ==> Be Dave

It took a few days longer than your other stuff, but your records finally showed up at Zahhak's Electronics. You didn't stick around because the guy running the shop is kind of creepy and awkward, not to mention unusually sweaty. To his credit though, he did pass on a message to you from Dirk. God, do you miss Dirk. He says it isn't safe to meet yet, and you agree, but Roxy has a new VPN for you so you'll finally get to talk to him at least. The elevator dings and you make your way out and down the hall to your room. You remembered your key this time. Balancing your box of records on your knee, you unlock the door and nudge it open with your foot. Karkat is wedged in the corner of his bed with another book and Sollux is sprawled out over the rest of it glued to a 3ds he's holding above his face. Danm that guy is gangly. What is he, like, eighty-five percent legs?

"Sup."

"Hey, Dave. Don't bother with Sollux. We've lost him. He's on his third double rematch with Roxy. He's dead to the world for at least 4 more rounds," Karkat says without looking away from what looks like one of those trashy Alternian romance novels. They've been ridiculously popular since they started reprinting them in English, Rose is completely hooked on them, but the one Karkat has looks like it's in Alternian if the cover is anything to go by. You don't know how he or anyone else can just read that stuff out in public for all to see. You are putting your records safely under your bed when you hear an explosion come from the shoddy 3ds speakers followed by a "Yes! In your face, Captor!" You whip around and cross the room in two strides.

"Roxy?"you ask.

"I literally just said he was playing against Roxy."

"Daaaave! Hey, Dirk said you were on campus now."

"Rox, You have the misfortune of knowing Dave?"

"No, she has the misfortune of being related to me."

"Dave and I are cousins."

"Human relations are so weird. What even are cousins?"

"I know you know what cousins are, but just to be clear, in case you've completely fried your think sponge since I last saw you, their guardians are littermates."

Another explosion emits from the handheld's speakers and Sollux squints hard at the screen, his fingers mashing the buttons with determined intention. He's really focused on this. Roxy is probably just as absorbed on her end. You remember her going on about her latest rivalry a few weeks back when there was that big game launch, you forget which one. Maybe that's the one they're playing. "Yo Sollux, what's your game handle?" you ask while expertly hiding the mischievous curiosity building in you. "twinArmageddons," Karkat helpfully supplies in his stead. Oh, this is gonna be good.

"So YOU'RE Tits and Ass!" you say louder than necessary. 

"EXCUSE ME?!" His grip on the 3ds lapses and it crashes down to smack him right in the face. Roxy is absolutely cackling on the other end of the game. You hear a muffled 'oooh my god, I can't breathe' come thru the speakers. Karkat is hiding behind his book, but you can tell he is barely suppressing his laughter judging by the way his shoulders are shaking. Mission a-fucking-ccomplished. "Roxy, what the fuck?" There is a yellow tint spreading over his face when he picks the 3ds back up and moves to sit cross-legged. You stand there with a smirk on your face and watch the show having successfully pushed your cousin in front of the bus. Your phone buzzes.

tipsyGnostalgic [T G] began pestering turntechGodhead [T G].

T G: yur soooooo daed

T G: *dead

T G: heart emoteicon.

tipsyGnostalgic [T G] has ceased pestering turntechGodhead [T G].

"Roxy," Sollux says.

"Okay okay, so like, twinArmageddons. T.A. T and A. Tits and Ass."

"Seriously? You seriously call me that?"

"And you have neither so it's even better."

"Ooooh, Roxy with the burn x2 irony combo. Captor is down. 1 hit k o, ladies and gentlemen. No contest."

"I'm blocking both of you."

You go to your desk to go over the mountain of catch up work you don't want to do, tuning in and out of the mess you started until Karkat tells Sollux to get a room already and the guy storms off. 

#  ==> Be Dave but later.

You're sitting in film appreciation 202. You took a class just like it at the community college, but it was one of the few that didn't transfer so here you are. Karkat being in the same class almost makes up for essentially having to retake it. The dude has some strong and LOUD opinions. It doesn't take much to get him to flip his shit. You are STRONGLY considering coordinating your schedules next semester to take intro to troll cinema with him. You weren't even thinking of taking it before, but how could you miss out on such primo meltdown content. At the moment, however, things are not so entertaining.

With nothing to distract you, your mind keeps wandering back to Bro . He'll be back from his gig tomorrow. Tomorrow he's going to walk into the apartment and find out you ran off like some weakling. You've agonized over his reaction again and again, but when it comes down to it, predicting what Bro is going to do is hard as fuck. He could do nothing for all you know (that's wishful thinking), or he could hunt down your ass and kick it all the way back to Houston. Or anything in between that. He might even go after Dirk again instead. You can't decide which you're more afraid of. Dirk nearly died the last time they saw each other. That you know of at least. You sincerely hope that was the last time. You're rescued from your thoughts by the flashing window of your pesterchum.

tipsyGnostalgic [T G] began pestering turntechGodhead [T G].

tipsyGnostalgic [T G] sent turntechGodhead [T G] file "nothorsehentai dotjpeg".

tipsyGnostalgic: cant wait til we can stop bein all wikipedia brown.

T G: teh file names can stay tho.

turntechGodhead: voldy is back at hogwarts tomorrow so i guess its good that shades mcpotter is freakin the fuck out and passing notes like valentines day is coming up do you like me circle y/n.

T G: this is really wild.

T G: i.

tipsyGnostalgic: u.

T G: dave.

T G: daaaaaaave.

T G: uugh.

turntechGodhead: nevermind.

T G: hows Tits and Ass.

T G: has he returned from the burn ward yet.

tipsyGnostalgic: omfg.

T G: he actu ally blocked me.

turntechGodhead: well shit.

tipsyGnostalgic: no worries he cant stay mad at me im the only one who can beat his high scores ;D emoteicon.

A window pops up.

twinArmageddons [T A] would like to add turntechGodhead [T G] to their chumproll.

With a shrug, you accept the request.

twinArmageddons [T A] has blocked turntechGodhead [T G].

That's fair.

turntechGodhead: he just added me so he could block me.

tipsyGnostalgic: lol.

T G: try messaging him i bet he already unblocked u.

T G: hes rly not that bad underneither all the sass.

T G: no ass, sass sassin.

T G: sans, ass, sass sassin.

turntechGodhead: i will give you so many dollars if you can get him to say that.

T G: ill bug him later.

T G: teach has figured out star student strider isnt taking notes.

T G: peace out yo.

turntechGodhead [T G] has ceased pestering tipsyGnostalgic [T G].

Without a distraction, by the time class lets out you're so wownd up that you B-line it straight back to your room and lock the door behind you. You check the locks on the windows and pull the shades down. You need to calm down. You're too jumpy and that's how mistakes are made. You just need to relax, take your mind off Bro . Maybe mix some music? You haven't mixed in a while, not since you hocked your turntables. Yeah, and you haven't even tested out your new ones yet. On top of that, you can see the door from your desk, so no surprises. You get set up with your laptop and your tables, but when you plug them in nothing happens. You unplug the USB and plug it back in, but there isn't a connection 'ding'. You look back at the wall to make sure you plugged it in, even though you're sure you did. Yeah, it's plugged in. It's then that you notice that none of the lights on the board are lit up. You toggle the switch, but it's still dead.

"No no no no no," You mumble to yourself as you stand up and start to pace, fingers threading up through your hair to rest at the back of your neck. This can't be happening. No wonder that shopkeep took your offer, the damn thing is broken and he knew it. You weren't exactly thrilled about this downgrade, but it was better than NOTHING. "Shit shit shit." You know you're freaking out over this more than you should, but you can't seem to reign yourself in. Dirk could have fixed this. He was so good with this sort of shit. You could wait until you see him, but god only knows when that'll be and you were gonna use this to calm down now. There's the electronics shop, maybe they could fix it, but you're not really feeling up to parting with any of that emergency cash stash, let alone leaving this room. You sink back into your chair and let your head loll back. What about Sollux?

turntechGodhead [T G] began pestering twinArmageddons [T A].

T G: yo on a scale of youre fucked to i got you bro .  
T G: how good are you with electronics.  
T G: specifically with fixing them.  
T G: by them i mean these piece of shit turn tables i got flimflammed into buying.  
T G: straight up bamboozled.

twinArmageddons [T A] is an idle chum.

You pull off your shades and press the heels of your hands to your eyes. Maybe you should just try to sleep? No way, aside from doubting that you can, that will only bring the problem closer to you chronologically speaking. Pesterchum pings. You take a deep breath and put your shades back on before looking at the screen again.

[T A]: im busy, what do you want?

#  ==> Be Sollux a little while ago.

You've been standing here for nearly five minutes waiting for this Juggalo to show up. It takes another five before an ugly brown 2 door sedan with horns poking out the moon-roof comes to a screeching stop and honks at you. The Makara's are weird, but they do possess two things that many of your friends don't. One of those things is a car. You hurry over to the passenger side door and try to open it, but Mituna pulls it back shut and laughs his head off. You roll your eyes and go for the door again. This time your brother isn't quick enough. He makes an indignant noise of protest as you squish his seat forward so that you can hop in the back.

The second thing they have is weed. You barely have your seatbelt on before Gamzee is passing the grass your way. Some people might say it's ill-advised given the medication you take, but you don't give a damn. Kurloz turns the music louder and starts heading away from campus. "Fuck yes," you say before taking that sweet sweet first hit that comes after a dry spell. Your brother throws his hand back toward you and blindly makes a 'gimme' gesture that you ignore until you're good and done with your turn.

Once your hands are freed up, you dig around in your pockets for a plain looking flash-grub and hand it to the clown sitting next to you. "Oh snap, thanks, brother. Man, who could have predicted a husktop wouldn't be down with the wicked elixir. It's like, alright, computers, right? What the fuck? But you got my back like a true friend. Now I'mma help you get yo chill on." It was probably the easiest money you've ever made. A lot of the time when people came to you for "data recovery" it really just meant yanking their hard drive out of their, in this case, faygo soaked husktop, and popping the documents onto a flash-grub. The car comes to a stop in the parking lot of an off-name convenience store that shares a building with a laundry mat of debatable quality. Kurloz shifts into park before navigating across Mituna to get at the glovebox. After a bit of shuffling (and some suggestive shit you could have gone your whole life without hearing, but what else is new with Mituna), the older Makara came back up and tossed a small, but larger than expected bag at you. He's signing something at you, but your not fluent and are only catching the gist of it.

"Yeah, your weird clown shit is safe with me." Honestly, you don't even know what was on that hard drive. It's not like you're sitting there hand picking files. Your palm husk buzzes and you glance at it to make sure it's nothing important. Nope, just Dave. The car starts moving again and Gamzee is handing you the bowl. You hit it a little weird and a piece goes straight to the back of your throat. You're doing your best not to cough and or drop anything when your palm husk buzzes again, and again. Mituna doesn't need to be told twice to take the bowl from you and just to spite him you cough in his face. "Brat!" he hollers back at you as you laugh through smaller coughs. Your palm husk buzzes again. "Sounds like someone tryna holler at your general direction." Little coughs keep slipping out and Gamzee is trying to offer you a faygo, but you're not a complete dumbass, so you shake your head and continue checking your trollian.

T A: im busy what do you want?

T G: finally look man im in a real jam.

T G: you think you can body slam the life back into this thing?

T G: it could be all hells of dead in which case i got ripped off something fierce but there is no way im setting a single toe back in gods blind spot for a damn turntable.

T G: its texas.

T G: gods blind spot is texas.

"Ugh, it's Dave. He wants me to fix something. Is that all I'm good for around here?" you ask as you slouch down in your seat, starting to get too comfortable. "Yes," Mituna says and then is promptly swatted by Kurloz as if to say 'be nice'. Fat chance that's gonna happen. Dave is still typing at you. "Hey brother, it's like, your fucking gift. Your own miracle to share with the masses. gettin paid in puff puff passes, passin classes with max chill-axes in the zone helpin ya holmes with the oh no shits broke, but you gonna let the sparks fly like, 'its alive!' its a fucking miracle, miracle monster--"

"Okay okay," you interrupt. "I get it. I'm fucking hacker Jegus and I'm gonna bless this asshole with my mad skill."

T A: you both are killing me and need two be stopped.

T G: who is both.

T A: nevermind that.

T A: i'm like two minutes out side of campus, i'll meet you there.

T G: right.

T G: there is my favorite place to meet.

T G: it only comes second to over there with an honorable mention to yonder and a shout out to behind the dennys.

twinArmageddons [T A] has ceased trolling turntechGodhead [T G]

You were so close to escaping the clown car unscathed until Mituna had to open his damn mouth and Kurloz doused you in Febreze. So now you smell like weed _AND_ summer morning shit mist. But honestly? You can't really be too mad about it. You simply aren't capable of it right now and that is amazing. You're crazy level right now. It's been so long since you've been so balanced. Right before the start of summer, the guy who supplies the guy who Kurloz gets his shit from got arrested. Apparently, he was like the state's primary weed man. It was all over the news. Hilarious until you realize it meant there was about to be one hell of a drought. It did make some work for you though. After you wrote a script to automate the two Juggalos' foray into "mirthful botanicals", you got a couple offers from like-minded renegade botanists.

You're so content that you nearly forget that you said you'd help Dave with whatever it was he was flipping his pan about. You pull the strings of your yellow hoodie a little tighter and make a 1 80 to knock on his door. "What's the password?" Comes muffle from behind the heavy wooden door. 

"Weak, easily cracked, and generally terrible," you come back with. The door opens up to reveal Dave. He seems off somehow. Maybe more rigid? 

"Sup." He says, flat and distant. You nod back in response before looking behind him for the wayward tech.

"You, uuhh, had something you wanted me to look at?" His hand goes to the back of his neck as he looks over toward his desk. You can almost catch his eyes through the side of his shades and it occurs to you that you've yet to see him without them. 

"Yeah, my turntables. I didn't think to test them like some kind of trusting dumbass. The thing doesn't even turn on." You nod your head and shove your hands into the pocket of your hoodie. 

"K. Bring it over to my room and I'll take it apart."

You kick the doorstop under your door so Dave can get in while you grab your tool bag from under the bed with your psy-onics. It tingles like a dryer warm static over your skin. It always does, but right now you can zone in on the feeling more easily. Dave is looking like a lost wool beast for a spot to put the turntable so you gesture to the floor. Even if you had a proper table you would probably still work on the floor. There's a feeling in your stomach and it takes your brain a moment to remember what hunger is. Your meds numb that sensation down so much that you can forget what it feels like sometimes. "You want a fruit roll-up?" You ask as you seemingly summon one from the void, (actually from your closet) into your hand and start unwrapping it. 

He must have been lost in his own head because he looks at you like he's snapping back into focus and says "huh?" You whip the froot by the foot out like they do on the commercials and hold it out in his direction before peeling a small section of the paper back and letting the blue and red swirled snack hang out of your mouth like a long tongue. "Fuck yeah, I haven't had one of those since..." there's a flicker in his face, just for a moment before you throw the junk food at him.

You give the turntable a once over, turning it around in your hands looking for obvious damage. It's almost surreal, and not because you're high. You're not used to handling tech so foreign to you. You have absolutely no idea what all these buttons and switches do. Nothing looks like it took a hit, so you flip it over and start looking for screws and pry points. 10 philip's head screws. You're always thankful when it's not some weird proprietary thing that you have to order special tools for. How dare anyone try to tell you that you can't take something apart. You make quick work of the screws, letting them hang in the air as you go before bringing them all together. "Here, make yourself useful and hold onto these." Dave is sitting there stock still, head turned down and slightly to the side like he's trying to listen for something out in the hallway. 

"Yeah, cool, I can do that." He says, holding out cupped hands to catch the bits of metal out of the air. Welcome back to earth, Dave. You riffle through your tool bag for a moment and pull out a blue anti-static band, ground it, and slip it over your wrist. "What's that?"

"Anti-static band," you can see the next question coming and answer it before it's asked. "So I don't shock the shit out of your comp-- I mean, your DJ thing." Even if you do have wildly good control over your psy-onics, it still is advised for you to ground yourself when getting up close and personal with circuits. 

"Hey, is it cool if I put on some beats?" Dave asks. It is really starting to hit you now. Music would be pretty sweet.

"Go for it. There is a line in on my computer speakers."

You get started by gently going around the edges of the casing with a thin plastic tool looking for the natural pry point. There is a soft click as it gives. After that, it's just a matter of going around the edges and pushing back the tiny hidden clips until the back pops off with ease. Now, this is more what you're used to. The familiar circuit board green greets you from beneath an array of wires, capacitors, IC chips, and other assorted bits and pieces. You dive in, losing the world around you to the steady stream of music and the careful process of checking for breaks in the wires and making sure they're plugged in snuggly. You move on to inspecting the next offender, the capacitors, but none of them look bloated or otherwise awry. You don't hear the soft click of a shutter. You pick up the device and look closer, turning it this way and that way until you see it. Of course. If it didn't turn on, you probably should have check that sooner. You give the power jack a little wiggle and it comes right out.

"I could be wrong, but I'm thinking that's not supposed to come out, huh?"

"Nope."

"Shit man, thanks for trying tho. I guess I'll--"

"Dude, relax. It looks like it just came loose. I can re-solder it."

"Oh." There's a pause before Dave speaks again like he's trying to find the right words while you find your soldering iron. "Hey, Sollux?" You make a quiet 'hm?' sound and look up at him over your glasses, not that he could tell probably. Most people assume you don't even have pupils. "Don't take this the wrong way. No judgment, but..." he's got your attention now. You straighten up to look more directly at him. "Are you...are you high?" A snort erupts from your face as you try and fail to stifle your laughter. Good job, Captor. Way to eschew those stereotypes. 

"Yeah." concern suddenly claws at you and pulls away the smile that had crept over your face. "Does that bother you? Sorry, I didn't really think to ask." He had said no judgment but you find yourself oddly worried about what he thinks of you. You...don't want him to... think badly of you? Or maybe...be disappointed? Dave puts up his hands and lightly shakes his head. 

"No, no, it's all good in the hood, home sizzle, but, okay, follow up question. Should you be soldering under the influence? Will they take away your license to solder? Are the solder police gonna break down that door and haul you off to tech prison? You're too pretty for jail, Sollux, you'll never make it. I mean, fuck, wait, no." To that, you raise your eyebrows and strongly contemplate whether to save him from his own backpedaling or fuck with him. You'll be nice today you supposed. 

"I'm good. Though the regular police might have something to say about this." You nearly forgot about the bag of devil lettuce just hanging out all snug in your pocket. You throw it into your sylladex on an encrypted card. While you wait for the soldering iron to heat up, you give the music playing more of your attention. You've never heard this song before. "What song is this?"

Dave perks up a bit at your question. "Why? You like?" There is a cocky grin starting to creep over his face. You look at him a little warily. There is some kind of trap here; you can feel it. 

"Yeah, it's okay." 

He huffs at you. Actually huffs at you. "Just okay? I'll have you know my beats are ill as fuck. My jams are straight up contagious. They've got cholera and brought enough to share with the class." 

You snicker as you pick up the iron and start carefully removing what's left of the old solder. "Whatever you say, man."

It all goes pretty smoothly and when you plug it in all the little lights on the DJ panel blink as they spring to life before resetting and leaving only the green power button lit. Your ego gets a boost as you watch Strider freak out. "No way, no fucking way. You fixed it? You fixed it." He's so amped that he has to go take a walk to the other side of your room and come back. You clean up while he runs across the hall to get his laptop so he can test everything out. There isn't much to put away and you're done by the time he gets back. "Catch," he says. You whip around and are greeted by some airborne Doritos. 

"Nice." You immediately dig into the bag, suddenly aware of how hungry you are. "I'm not usually paid in Doritos, but I think I can make an exception this time." The smile on his face momentarily ticks up a little higher and he makes an amused hum somewhere in his throat. Just a couple hours ago he seemed to radiate tension and now he's damn near giddy. The voice in the back of your mind tells you that you did that. It's a warm feeling and you're not sure what to do about it. 

"Thanks by the way." He says looking over his shoulder at you.

You dust your Dorito hands off on your pants and unencrypt one of the cards from your sylladex. Drugs, you're going to do drugs about it. "No problem. I'm gonna step out a sec, k?" You say, gesturing to the window. He gives you a nod and starts to go back to checking out his gear, but does a double take when you actually head for and step out of the window. You can fly, why does no one ever expect you to use the window? Doors are for losers.


	3. Sollux: Have a moderately shitty day

#  Your name is ROXY LALONDE and this is not the floor you normally wake up on.

You rub at your eyes and then decide this is more of a full face rub sort of grogginess. Slowly the fog of sleep dissipates and you take in your surroundings. A pillow has been placed under your head and there is a throw blanket tangled around you. There is a desk with a pretty sweet rig under it and a mess all around it. The Apiculture based computer jammed in the window is the giveaway. The floor you have woken up on must belong to Sollux.

You hear running water from the bathroom and noises that lead you to believe he's brushing his teeth. Boy, does he have a lot of teeth. You'd use an electric toothbrush too if you had a game of 3d Tetris for a mouth. You pick yourself up off the floor after wrestling with the blanket and discover you had opted to sleep in your clothes. Damn, and here you thought you might have finally gotten some out of nerd boy. With a yawn, you wander over to the bathroom to find Sollux. He's got pajama pants on that have little bees all over them; it's adorable. "So, did we bang? Was I better than in your dreams?" you ask with a waggle of your eyebrows.

"Trust me, you'd remember if we did."

"Looking out for my virtue as always"

"You have virtue?"

You roll your eyes at his toothpaste covered smirk, but you're still smiling as you lean against the door frame and try to recall the events of the previous night. Let's see, you met up with Sollux at your usual haunt, took turns kicking each other's ass in various games, Mituna and Latula showed up at some point, and it all starts to get fuzzy around then. "So when did we wander back here?"

Sollux spits in the sink and wipes his mouth on a nearby towel before he answers. "After Mituna busted his ass playing DDR, but before you threw up on me." You wince. That sounds like something you might do. 

"Is that why I was banished to the floor?" you ask in an accusing, but playfully antagonizing tone. He pushes past you to pick a shirt up off the floor by his dresser; the designated 'still good' spot for clothes after they've done their time on the chair. 

"You could not be convinced otherwise despite my many attempts." You nod at him and make a doubtful 'mhm' sound to show that you aren't skeptical at all and totally believe he tried. He makes a circling gesture with his finger and you turn around so he can get dressed. It's cute that he's modest. You're still gonna tease him about it.

"Prude."

"Bite me."

"Name the time and place, honey." You can feel the air go still and the hair on your arms raise from the light static radiating off Sollux behind you.

"Don't...don't call me that," his voice is tight and unsettling in how quickly it turned serious. You begin to turn around, but catch yourself and turn back to face the windows. You catch a glimpse though. Sollux standing there frozen with his back to you, halted in a state of half dress, belt hanging undone on pants only loosely clinging to sharp hips, shirt around his forearms, but not yet over his head. You hit a nerve and it was a deep one. You tease each other constantly, but you know when to back off. 

"Sure thing," you say softly. It's happened before. You'll say or do something and he goes stiff and quiet. You'll get too close, physically or otherwise, and he'll shut down. It wouldn't be so frustrating if the rules were consistent, but they're not. Some things are okay sometimes, but not always. You've never pried about it, but you don't think he'd tell you anyway. You check the time. It's still relatively early. Late morning. "I'm meeting Dave after class today." You say, changing the subject.

"My condolences," he comes back with and claps a hand to your shoulder. You cross your arms and leer at him.

"Oh come off it. You don't really think he's that bad."

"He made me listen to his raps. Have you heard his raps, Roxy? Have you?"

You shake your head. " _Anyway_ , I'm gonna get going. Gotta make myself at least somewhat presentable." Sollux opens his mouth to no doubt say something smart, but you glare at him before he can get it out, and it dissolves into laughter. You're barely out the door when you turn around and catch it before it can close. "Oh, and by the way," you say as you lean into view on the door frame, "You might wanna tighten up that code of yours. It's a review day today. Wouldn't want to own you too hard." You wink at him and leave before he can get in a response.

#  ==> Be Sollux

She's gone before you can get a word in. You shake your head and gather up the rest of your things because if you don't get your ass in gear, you're going to be late for Lit. Your door has just clicked shut when Karkat and Dave burst out of their room. Karkat's hair is standing up more than usual and he's got his and Dave's bag, as Dave struggles with a zip-up hoodie while holding a notebook in his mouth. You give Karkat an upward nod and the three of you rush down the stairs. Luckily the language building isn't too far across campus. Somehow it would seem that you even made it with time to spare. When you open the classroom door you are greeted by the ominous sight of all the desks being arranged in a horseshoe. Oh boy, this is going to be a participation day. There is no hiding in the horseshoe, so you and Karkat take seats on the center side closest to the door. Dave wanders to the far corner by the windows.

He's leaning back in his chair with his feet up like an asshole, starting up a conversation with some people around him. Someone says something about their brother and the conversation quickly shifts to music.

"Yeah, my Bro is pretty big on the underground DJ circuit. None of that fake shit. Real mixing. It's crazy."

He's talking out his ass, you're almost certain.

"So do you make music too or?" someone says.

"oh yeah, totes. He taught me the basics straight up no bs when I was a kid, so I've really had some time to explore my own sound, ya know?" God, they are eating that shit up. You roll your eyes and look at the clock. Class should have started by now. Looking around you see some stuff spread out on the front table. They look like flash card packets, but the colorful kinds you would teach wigglers with. The professor is leaning against the table and jotting stuff down on a legal pad, occasionally looking around at the different small groups of students chatting away. You look back over to Dave who still has people captivated with his bullshit, although it seems they've moved on from jerking his ego, to discussing different influences.

"No, yeah, that noise is like straight up honest to god psychosis. This shit is the ironic polar opposite of weaksauce. It's strongsauce. Hercules pissed off the wrong god and got turned into a ghost pepper levels of strong. Gonna send folks to the ER like doc I can't hear you, I can only hear these fiery beats." His tangents are impressive in the same way that a public scuttlebuggy derailment is eye-catching. Karkat nudges your side to get your attention before motioning his chin at Dave and raising an eyebrow at you as if to tease you about your staring. You're already glaring so you glare harder at him. 

"He just radiates douchery, like some kind of self-obsessed, attention deficit wiggler," you whisper.

The professor clears her throat and tells everyone to settle down and for Dave to remove his feet from the desk. She goes to the whiteboard and draws a chart with two columns. On one side She writes Human and on the other Troll. "Today we're going to be going over some terminological differences in Alternian and Earthling English speech patterns. I'll be passing around two stacks of simple word flash cards. Take one from each pile. Once everyone has their cards we'll be going around the room and I want each of you to give me the Alternian and Earthling term for each object. Additionally, I'll be writing some phrases on the board for us to translate." You see her write weaksauce on the board and realize she was soffitspying on everyone. Not so coincidentally, soffitspying is also on there as well.

You look down at your cards. That's not happening. "Karkat, give me your card," you whisper

"Why?"

"Just give me your troll card."

You did not do a good job whispering because the teacher says "No swapping cards. Part of the exercise is to learn terms you may not know." You slink lower in your chair. Maybe you can disappear if you try hard enough. The teacher starts at the side closer to the windows. People are getting words like 'skateboard', and 'lounge plank', and 'fronds'; how did you wind up with a word like this? Well, you suppose it's not as advanced a word for trolls. Your turn comes up. You give the troll equivalent of worm, but hesitate with your other card.

"And the Alternian card?" the professor prompts you.

"I can't."

"You don't know it?"

"No, I know it, but--" you realize too late that that was your out. You should have just said you didn't know it. Plenty of people wouldn't have. You can feel the blood rising to your cheeks.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand the problem. What card do you have?"

"Stab flower." It wasn't the answer she was looking for and she leans her head forward and gestures for you to continue with the Human version. This is gonna suck.

"Thith- .. thit-- thitl-- ..Thitsthtlle-- " Everybody is looking at you and you can hear a few people started to snicker when it sounded like you said 'shit'. You let your head drop to rest with your hand on your forehead, partially obscuring your face, and shove the card at Karkat. He sucks in air sharply between clenched teeth before he answers for you.

"Thistle." There's a beat of heavy silence as he gently puts the card down in front of you, then clears his throat and practically shouts, "So I have crabs." Bless his bloodpusher. The majority of the class, Karkat included, bursts into laughter as he holds up a card with a cartoon crab on it.

  


You're sitting in the cafeteria some time later, prodding mindlessly at some honey-nut nutrition rings you have no intention of finishing. You've been in a shit mood since this morning and the rest of the day hasn't helped much. It's stupid. All she did was call you honey... but that's what Aradia called you. Honey. Honey bee. You had always pretended not to like it, and you didn't at first, but it had grown on you. You can still hear it in your head. It's been over two years. You should be over this by now. You thought you were over it. Apparently not. It's been looming in your mind all day like a catalyst for any bad feeling to latch onto.

You spy Roxy's faded out pink hair across the room. Right, she was meeting Dave. You forgot about that. If you had remembered, you would have gone somewhere else. Then again, did she even tell you they were meeting here? She looks so happy to see him. Somehow they kept missing each other in passing. That hug has got to hurt though. It's pretty doubtful Dave's side has healed up all the way. If it does hurt, he's not showing it. You've noticed that he's a lot more closed off in public, less genuine. Other people don't seem to notice so much and take him at face value. Not that you've been watching him or anything.

He and Roxy are taking an ironic selfie and it makes you wonder if you have a photo of you and Roxy. It's not the most pitch thing to do, taking selfies with your kismesis, but you and Roxy have a soft spades thing going on. She's human and humans have trouble staying in a single quadrant, but they have a particularly difficult time sticking strictly to blackrom. You're like mars black, there's a lot of red in there. You met her when she dethroned you at a gaming tournament and instead of calling the cops when you hacked her computer to challenge her to a rematch, she accepted with a wicked enthusiasm. It's less hate and more rivalry, or as she puts it, a rivalmance. What's surprising is that she doesn't seem to bleed pale like a lot of people might. You suppose that's what makes it work. When things get too red-- let's be honest, when things remind you too much of Aradia and you freeze up like the broken trash-panned mess you are, she just backs off. She gives you space. You'd bet good money that if you had a moirail, she'd pawn you off on them like any good kismesis would do when the situation doesn't call for tough love or firm antagonistic encouragement. A moirail, ha, like anyone would be stupid enough to pale solicit you.

A hand waves in front of your face and you jolt back to reality. "You in there?" You look up to see Karkat holding a tray with the remnants of his dinner on it.

"Oh, hey kk," you say without putting a single ounce of effort into masking your gloomy tone. You look down at your cereal that has now morphed into a gross paste and sigh before standing up and heading to the tray drop off with Karkat. You're only a few steps down the hallway when he stops you. 

"Something is bothering you and if you say it's nothing I'm going to walk back there and force feed that soggy mess that looks like it was, at one point, perfectly good plant-based nutrition rings down your protein chute until you tell me." 

You look him dead in the eye. "It's nothing." A hand quickly snatches the back of your shirt and starts dragging you backward, which is pretty awkward because Karkat is a decent few inches shorter than you. "Okay, okay, I'll tell you. Get your grubby little fronds off my shirt." He lets go and you fiddle with your collar to make sure it isn't all stretched out. It isn't, but you frown at him anyway. He glares back at you, arms crossed, waiting for you to continue. You look down the hall the way you came and motion for him to follow you outside. You really don't feel like having a personal conversation while strangers pass by you. You lead Karkat to the outside wall of the cafeteria and trample some weeds as you make your way through a dying flower bed so you can lean against the brick. "Roxy called me honey this morning." Karkat gives you a quizzical look that says he isn't following you. "Aradia used to call me that." The shift in his expression is instantaneous, apologetic, but knowing that there isn't much he can do for you. "It's stupid, really, don't worry about it." You've known Karkat since before you shed your wiggler legs, he's going to worry anyway.

"I don't have any classes left today. If you want to watch a movie or something..." he suggests.

You shake your head. "Thanks, but I've got homework to do." It's a weak excuse, but you think maybe it's better to just sulk in private. No sense in ruining anyone else's night on account of you and your emotions. You mess up Karkat's already disastrous hair and push off the wall with one foot. "Maybe tomorrow or something," you say as you cross the short distance to your dorm's entrance. Karkat says something, but you only half hear it. Something about messaging you.

The day seems to stretch on for far too long, and when night finally comes, you find yourself lying there for hours slipping further and further into madness without the release of sleep. Drugs can't solve all your problems, but they can help with this. See? Perfectly responsible. You are definitely not becoming dependent again.

You open the window and step into the night air. It's starting to get cooler at night, you'll have to bring in your bees soon. You float up to the roof and make yourself comfortable far enough away from the edge so that no one can see you. It's quiet. The only sounds you can hear are the flick of your lighter and the crackle of pseudo-soporific plant material as it succumbs to the flame. You hold in the smoke for as long as you can before letting it escape through your sniffnode.

You aren't sure how much time has passed when you decide that you're good and return your bowl to your encrypted sylladex. You're getting a little chilly, but you think maybe you'll stay up here a little longer. It's a nice night out and you're not quite ready to return to the confines of your room.

Out of nowhere you hear the sound of sneakers scuff across the asphalt and whip your head in its direction like a glowing-eyed moron.

"Holy shit!" The figure says as they stumble backward in surprise. Their foot catches the raised edge and their hands fly out to grab at the open air in front of them as they begin to topple backward. You know that voice.

"Dave!" You throw your hand out and wrap him in your psy-onics just before he falls out of your line of sight. You scramble to the roof's edge and bring him back up to the landing, taking his outstretched hand and pulling him the rest of the way over the ledge. He careens into you and the both of you go down. You get the honor of breaking the fall for him.

"Holy shit. Thanks, man. Hitting that fire escape wasn't gonna be a fun time." He's making lite of things, but you can feel his heart hammering in his chest from where he is on top of you. It's making your stomach turn in knots again. You gently pat his arm and he makes a quiet 'oh' sound as he rolls off of you to lay on his back. You turn your head to look at him. It's three in the morning and he has those stupid shades on. "So they do glow." he says.

You blink in confusion. "What?"

"Your eyes. They glow. I wasn't sure."

"Oh, yeah, they do that."

"That's pretty cool."

You're disappointed when he sits up. The proximity was nice and there is a certain relief in letting that thought pass through your thinksponge. "What are you doing up here?" You ask, breaking the silence that fell between you.

"What're _YOU_ doing up here?"

"I asked you first."

"I asked you second."

"What do you **think** I was doing up here?"

"Ok, I may have an idea of what you might have possibly been doing up here," he says with a small laugh and a slight upturn of his mouth. Silence falls between the both of you again, but it isn't strained. You pull yourself to sit up and rest your forearms on your knees. You're about to ask him again when he speaks. "Couldn't sleep. I kept thinking about.. things and I heard someone on the roof. Not that you were loud. I don't think anyone else heard you. I'm just used to it." You wonder what that means, that he's 'used to it'.

"Same. The couldn't sleep part I mean." You pick at some loose bits of roofing material. "I don't think I'm going to sleep just yet if you wanna hang out for a bit." He looks to truly contemplate the offer for a moment before shaking his head. 

"Nah, I'm gonna head back to bed. I've got class in a few hours." He gets up. Bits of blacktop crunch under his shoes as he makes his way to the fire escape ladder. "I'll catch ya later."

"See ya." You sit there for a minute listening as he climbs down and back into the building. When you finally get to your feet and head to the ledge, you go up instead of down. You climb higher and higher into the darkness. It's cold up here, but you can take it. You run hotter than most gold bloods. You drift there for a while, looking down at the campus. There's something about Dave. You're not sure how to describe it, only that you feel this sense of...you can't place it, but it leaves you curious in a strange way. Roxy is right; you really don't mind him. She, however, doesn't need to know that.

When your fingers start to go cold, you fly back down. Your room is toasty by comparison and you're greeted by a wave of warmth. You glance at the clock and feel a little dumb for asking Dave if he wanted to hang out with you. It was stupid. You try to push it and Dave from your mind as you crawl back under the covers, but your think sponge keeps circling back to him. The way he looked at you when you fixed his turntables, the way he was on the roof; you wonder if he's like that around anyone else.


	4. Bad coping mechanisms

Your name is DIRK STRIDER and you're staring at an unsent message in your pesterchum again.

You and Dave had agreed that he wouldn't try to find you or contact you directly. If it was safe, you would contact him. There haven't been too many safe times over the years. You never outright told Dave, but you assume he figured out that the home network was bugged and logged six ways to Sunday.

After what Bro did to you, you just couldn't risk putting Dave in danger for trying to talk to you. You wouldn't be able to forgive yourself if Bro decided that Dave was a failure too. You don't know if you've even forgiven yourself for leaving him with that monster all these years.

Dave isn't there anymore though. You saw to that just like you promised you would. But what if somehow Bro is still watching him? He was always more obsessed with Dave for some reason, like you were merely a prototype to be tested on. He would have never let Dave limp away like you did. You wondered about that a lot in the past. You think about it less now, but it still comes up. It's pretty hard to ignore.

"How do you want your eggs?" Jake calls from the kitchen. It stirs you from your train of thought like cold water. Your boyfriend hasn't been super fond of Hal modulating your voice for you since he found out that Hal was less a piece of software and more a fully sentient AI, so you make the short walk to the kitchen space of the small apartment. He's a pretty good cook and is always shoving food at you whenever he makes something for himself. Which, honestly, you're grateful for. You have a lot of skills, but cooking isn't one of them. The things you are willing to classify as edible are pretty telling of your formative years. You snake your arms around his waist and rest your chin on his shoulder.

"Hello there, how would you like your eggs this morning?" He's all toothy smiles and warm sounds. You take in a breath. "Scrambled. Do I have peppers?" Your voice is hoarse and quiet, but its there and that's a lot more than you thought you would have after taking a sword to the neck. The first time Dave heard your voice after what you politely call "the incident", you swear he was in tears on the other end of that shitty pay phone. He says he wasn't of course, and you hope that's true because that phone was a relic of yesteryear left unnoticed in a public library in a not great town. Dave can handle himself, but it doesn't mean you don't worry about him. You worry a lot about him actually. Hal calls you obsessive.

Jake laughs. It's the dorkiest laugh you've ever heard, but god do you love it. "You do now," he says gesturing to some peppers that are already cut up in a plastic container you recognize to be his. Leftovers from some other dish he was making. You kiss his cheek before you venture back to your desk. It's been a week since Bro got back to the newly sans Dave apartment and the world has yet to end. It's not like you expected immediate retribution, but you did at least expect some unusual activity on his end. Hal says Bro's websites are still getting regular updates, but you know the guy has a backlog of content. The temptation to break radio silence is immense. Plus, will it ever really be safe? You gently remind yourself that Dave is only a short drive away. He's not in Houston anymore. He isn't on that network. He doesn't even have the same phone. This is as safe as it gets.

timaeusTestified [T T] began pestering turntechGodhead [T G].

T T: Hey.

# ==> Be Dave.

You damn near drop your phone when you see who is messaging you. 

T G: no way

You're about to spill your guts when you remember the rules. Dirk was wary that Bro might try to finish him off. He was a liability for whatever it was that monster wanted of you. With you disappearing there was an increased chance that this wasn't really Dirk. You pry the case off your phone and pull out a small worn slip of paper with numbers written on it in Dirk's handwriting.

T G: 81 38 8 a9 2 0 a1 

T T: 81 2 4 89 5 20 81

The response was relatively quick, but you still had another step to it. All he needed to do was respond with anything but an actual response to your accusation.  


T G: youre not dirk.

Time seemed to slow down as you waited for him to reply. "Come on, please be Dirk, please be Dirk." You mumbled low under your breath. The implications of the alternative are not something you want to think about.

T T: Cereal is not a soup, Dave. 

T G: i missed you so fucking much. 

T G: is it cool to talk like normal people yet instead of this convoluted note passing and double talk. 

T T: Probably not, but I believe this is as safe as it gets. I've weighed the odds, trust me. 

T G: so obviously im not gonna ask where you are or what youre doing. 

T G: because i assume we havent completely lost our damn minds. 

T G: but are you ok? 

T T: Yeah, I'm okay. I'm not going to lie, it wasn't easy, it wasn't legal, and I had some help, but I'm doing alright now. I have an apartment, a job, and... 

T T: A boyfriend.

You pick your head up from your phone and realize you've been standing in the middle of the walkway grinning like an idiot. It's pretty amazing that Dirk's managed to get so far. He had to leave with almost nothing, but here he is with his feet on the ground. And he has a boyfriend. That's a pretty big deal. It's like a slap in Bro's face. You can't imagine it was easy for Dirk to deal with though.

T G: gaaaaaaay.

You are emotionally stunted.

T T: That would be the central idea. 

T T: The primary arrangement. 

T T: You might say it is a prerequisite. 

T G: for real tho thats cool. 

T G: so, 

T G: when do we chill? 

T G: when does the reunion episode air? our fans are in their seats squirming. 

T G: asses are on the edge dirk. 

T G: the fans need to know.

There is a long pause this time. You eventually pocket your phone and continue walking back to the dorm. Maybe Dirk hadn't thought that far a-- ha! no Dirk has thought all of the things three times over. He even has an AI to think those thoughts an additional 400 times. He's probably trying to rationalize a decision he's already decided on. You're just about back to your room when pesterchum pings again.  


T T: I'll get back to you on that. 

timaeusTestified [T T] has ceased pestering turntechGodhead [T G].

When you get to your room you're greeted by the sight of Karkat walking in circles and gesticulating wildly while on the phone with someone.

"Because you're his fucking brother, that's why. Look, just try to message him....He won't answer me....I don't know, that's why I'm asking you to message him!... argh, Why didn't you say that in the first place?!....Good, fine, bye!" Karkat hangs up the phone and flops down face first on his bed visibly exhausted by the conversation.

"Family drama?" You ask as you throw your bag on the floor and take a seat on your own bed.

"You could say that. I've certainly known the Captors long enough."

"The whomst?"

"Sollux and Mituna," he says as he rolls over.

"Ah," you say with a slow nod. Captor huh? Sollux Captor, that's a cool name, maybe even as cool as yours. "So what's the dealio? Gimme the skinny, short stuff. Don't save the drama for Obama. I want it straight from the source. Drinking right out the hose like--"

"Please, stop talking." Karkat cuts you off. "I will gladly tell you if you just stop talking. It is a small price to pay." You make a 'you got it' finger gun motion at him and wait for him to continue. He sits up and slumps forward a bit. "Sollux hasn't come out of his room today and I don't think he did yesterday either." The subject matter is a lot less juicy than you anticipated. It's a downer coming off the excitement of finally hearing from your brother.

"Maybe he's just tired. Give the guy some space, dude," you say as you pull out your phone to check your notifications and fall back onto the pillow. Karkat shakes his head.

"You don't get it. I'm not about to put the guy's dirty laundry on display or anything, but it isn't exactly a well-kept secret that he's..." Karkat scrunches up his face and tilts his head like he's trying to choose the least offensive or intrusive way to phrase this. "...got some problems."

Your mind jumps back to the other night up on the roof when he told you that he couldn't sleep either. Maybe you should have asked him why. Would it have been the polite thing to do or just weird? "What like he's crazy?" you ask. Karkat takes a deep breath and stands up. You've done it now, Strider. Here comes the rant.

"Human Jegus help you if you say that to his face. Look, I've known Sollux since we were wigglers. He gets in these funks and if someone intervenes soon enough then it's not a problem; he'll bounce back. He pulls it off himself sometimes, I would bet more often then I'm even aware of. But sometimes he can't, and if no one checks in on him then shit can hit the breeze blender. Not to mention if he hasn't left his room, he probably hasn't eaten either. And yeah, I know I'm not in his quadrants, I don't want to be, I have a moirail, but excuse me for giving a flying fuck about my best friend!" Karkat deflates after that and sinks back down on the bed only to get back up almost immediately. "Maybe Roxy can talk some sense into him," he says, throwing his hands up and making for the door.

You're left to sit there alone in some kind of residual awkward silence with yourself. You might as well try talking to the guy. His room is all of what, 10 feet away? You roll off the bed and make your way across the hall. "Yo, Sollux, open up," you say as you knock on the door. "Karkat's throwing a shit fit about you. Are you really prepared to carry the guilt of subjecting me to that? I have to live with the guy." You wait a moment, listening for any sign of life. "Don't make me break out the raps, man. I know how much you love my raps. I'll do it. You're turning my hand, bro. You don't understand, no, I can spin this shit all day, don't even play, quicker than your combos, melee. You don't need to respond, I'll just keep going on, and on and on, off the chain, these beats insane, yo, I just keep pickin em up, what, like it's tough? Can't stop me now, don't even know how this shit so tight--"

The handle clicks and the door opens just enough that you can see part of Sollux's face hidden behind unruly hair and buried in a hoodie. He looks a bit more worse off than you thought he would. You're not actually sure what you had expected in the first place, but somehow this is worse. "What?" he asks, trying to sound pissed off, but you can tell his heart isn't in it.

"Uhh," Great start. You hadn't really thought this plan through. The door starts to close a little. "Wait wait, ok. So. Karkat was going off about you being less than stellar." He stands there, unresponsive. You take it as your cue to continue. "He was on the phone with your brother, which sounded like an experience, to say the least. I know pissing off Karkat is a sport, but that was just low. The guy's boxers are in such a bunch, man. They're way up there. They're in such a bind he may never recover. Medical science has only come so far." Sollux still isn't answering you and it's starting to get a little weird. "Sooo, um, I still owe you that solid. Maybe I can come in and uh," you try to peek around him and you can't see much, but what you can see isn't exactly tidy. "help you pick up a bit, I guess?" You are a hot second from bailing when he finally speaks.

"You want to help me clean my room?"

"Yes?"

"Because Karkat is worried about me?"

"Yes" 

You honestly didn't expect to get this far, so when the troll relents and steps aside with a sigh, your brain starts scrambling for your next move. You step into the room and the door clicks behind you. The place has seen better days. You're no stranger to organized chaos, but the place could use some help. You look back over to Sollux who is pulling a blanket off the top bunk and wrapping it around himself. He looks tired.

Alright, so you walked into this ass end first and aren't exactly sure what you're doing. "Jeez, has FEMA been alerted about your room?" A swing and a miss. Sollux doesn't even crack half a smirk. "Let's get the trash out at least." You look around for a bit before finding the trash bags on top of the mini fridge. There are some wrappers and energy drink cans on the desk, you grab those first before tackling the actual trash can and surrounding trash zone. Which speaking of the surrounding trash zone...

"Do I want to know what this is?" You ask, pointing at the pile of yellowish tissues spilling over the lip of the trash can. You're no expert on xeno-biology, but there's like four different things that that could be and you have to draw the biohazard line somewhere.

"Tissues"

"Well, yeah, I figured that one out all on my own. Why are they yellow?"

"Have you not noticed I'm a gold blood?"

"Are you telling me that's your blood?"

"Are you this stupid naturally or do you practice?"

You drop the trash bag and take a step toward him. He's all huddled in on himself, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"That didn't answer my question."

"It's none of your business!" he practically hisses at you, his lisp no doubt a factor in that.

"Sollux, what the fuck is that?" Your voice is a little harsher than you meant it to be. He looks away from you and even if you couldn't make out the sliver of fangs you'd be able to tell he was gritting his teeth by the set of his jaw. "Sollux!" He makes a frustrated sound and snaps his gaze back to you.

"I was crying okay? Are you happy now?" He shouts. You can see it now from the way he's looking up at you, the way his eyes are puffy and yellow around the edges, the dried tracks down his face that are just a slightly different color in the light. "Just get the fuck out of my room, Strider." You don't know how to deal with this. You've never been in a position where there wasn't a clear tangible cause of discomfort. You know how to patch a wound, but this, you don't know this. So you wind up leaving without another word.

You shut the door a little too hard on the way out and immediately feel bad about it, but keep going until you're back in your own room. Way to go, Dave. You made it worse. Fuck, what if he's crying again now? Because of you. You hear Karkat coming back around the corner. He's knocking on Sollux's door. After that exchange you just had, there's no way he's coming out now.

You hear the faintest of footsteps on the roof and panic sweeps you for a split second before you can tell yourself it's just Sollux. He goes up there a lot. Maybe too much. Still, you find yourself anxious. You should check. If it turns out to really be Sollux, maybe you can offer him some Doritos or something, like a peace offering for blundering through whatever it was you were trying to do back there. You really fucked that one up.

You look between a bag of cool ranch and original before throwing them both in your sylladex. Karkat is nowhere to be seen when you walk back into the hallway. One less awkward conversation for you. The window comes up easy and you climb onto the fire escape and head up. There is a twinge of worry before you pull yourself up the last rung. What if it is Bro up there? You shake your head and press forward. A wave of relief hits you when you see a lanky troll completely envelloped by a sweatshirt sitting against, what is that, an ac unit? Does this building actually have air conditioning? You make your way over and take a seat beside him. He has his legs drawn up to his chest and his arms around his knees.

"Hey," you say.

"Hey." That's a good sign. He doesn't sound pissed at you.

"Sorry about before. For being--".

"Insensitive. Xenophobic. Obtuse." He fills in for you.

"I was gonna say for being a dumbass, but yeah, that too."

"It's cool."

You sit there together in silence for a bit before you remember about your peace offering. You had expected him to be at least a little pissed off, so when he forgave you like it was nothing, you nearly forgot about it. "Oh hey, I brought something for you." You pull the two bags out of your sylladex and hold them up for him. "Red or blue?" You only just now realize the significance of those colors, but you smirk as if you planned it from the start. The smallest of smiles cracks at the corner of his mouth.

"Seriously?"

"Yup, red or blue? Come on Captor, the world is dying to know." He shakes his head and that start of a smile creeps further across his face as he takes the cool ranch from you with his hand, and the original with his psy-onics while you're distracted. "Hey, one of those was gonna be mine," you pout. "whatever, keep it." He probably hasn't eaten much anyway if Karkat has been right about him not leaving his room. He shifts to sit cross-legged and you see the bowl roll out from its spot hidden in the folds of the sweatshirt. Sollux looks down and picks up the few bits of weed that came loose, dropping them back in and patting them down with a lighter that was apparently in his sleeve. He looks at you, catching you staring.

"What? You think I'd come up here just to sulk?"

A laugh grips you and you shake your head. "One of these days it ain't gonna be me coming up that ladder and you're gonna get your ass caught." He shrugs and takes a hit. It would make a good picture you think. He blows the smoke up and away from you when he exhales. That would make a good picture too. Maybe when he's not a wreck you'll ask him if you could snap a few.

"Did you want any?" he offers, holding it out to you.

"Nah, I don't smoke. Nothing against it though, so you do you, no worries." Honestly, you've thought of trying it, but it wouldn't have been worth the beating you'd get if Bro had caught you. Or who knows, maybe he was down with the gahnge and would have hit it with you. You weren't about to find out. Sollux gives another shrug.

"Look, man. I kind of fucked that all up before, but for real, you look like hell."

"Gee, thanks." he interrupts. You side eye him with a tilt of your head and continue.

"How bout we try that again? You go take a shower, because no offense, you need a shower, dude. I'll straighten up for you. You'll feel better if you can tell what color the floor is." You watch as he puts away his smoking paraphernalia and breaks open the cool ranch. Is he blushing?

"Here, take this," he says, holding out the other bag of Doritos. "I wasn't going to actually take both." You happily take back your snack, maybe a bit too gleefully. So maybe you were genuinely disappointed he took both, it's whatever.

"Did Karkat tell Roxy on me?"

"Yes?" you answer in a confused tone. 'Tell Roxy on him'? What's that supposed to mean? You must be giving him a really weird look because he's sending one right back your way. The wheels slowly start to turn in your head and when it clicks your eyebrows ascend beyond the rim of your shades. "Are you dating Roxy?"

"She's not my girlfriend if that's what you're implying." He takes another couple chips out of the bag and downs them before continuing. "She's my kismesis."

It is an odd thing to process for you. For one thing, the whole quadrants thing confuses you. Secondly, while Roxy is your cousin, you didn't even know you had cousins until after Dirk got kicked out. In fact, you actually already knew Rose and Roxy for a good while before you found out you were related. Rose, of course, uses this against you at every opportunity. This is now twice today you've been out of your element. "Wait, so you are hate dating my cousin?"

"I don't hate Roxy, well, not in that way, it's...just ask Karkat he will give you a gogdamn dissertation on the nuances of Human-Troll relations. I'm a citation in his paper." You're not sure if he's kidding or not. He crumples up the empty chip bag and starts to make his way over to the ledge. "You coming?" he asks.

"It may have slipped your mind, but not all of us can fly. Some of us mere mortals have to use the stairs."

He rolls his eyes at you, at least you think that's what that was. "Whatever. See you in a few I guess." It's super weird to watch him jump off the edge. You know he can levitate himself, but it doesn't make it look any less like he just casually jumped to his death. The feeling doesn't shake away until you see him again at his door.

#  ==> Sollux: shower.

You hadn't wanted to shower, you even thought maybe you'd just stand under the water for a few minutes and get out, but now that you're in here, it's amazing. It's ridiculously relaxing and washing away the layer of grime feels great. You don't know how you manage to forget that a shower does wonders for you.

Not that you're magically cured or anything. Your mind is still in a million places. It had started like it does every now and then, a vivid nightmare. To be fair, it started before that, but the nightmare made everything spiral all that much faster. When you would try to push it out of your mind it would only be replaced by other shitty feelings jumping on the opportunity. Right now those thoughts were centered on what just happened between you and Dave, both in your room and on the roof. His persistence. The concern in his voice. The way he came after you even after you yelled at him. He even brought you food. No, no it's all just wishful thinking.

You remind yourself that he's human. He doesn't know what he's doing. Humans are just like that. They'll bond with anything. They're a social cooperative species. You're not special and it didn't mean anything. It was just a convenience. His roommate was concerned and it was distracting him so he took the matter into his own hands. You're not special.

Even if it did mean anything, as soon as he saw how messed up you really are, he'd bail. There's a reason you've never had a real moirallegiance. There have been people interested before, but it never got past a certain point. You were just too much. They, "weren't experience enough" to handle you. You were, "too intense", "too unbalanced".

But that doesn't matter because it didn't mean anything. You thunk your head against the wall and refuse to acknowledge the ache in your chest. You need to get your shit together. A little while and a little soap later you're getting out of the shower. You tousle your hair dry and wrap a towel around your waist before peaking your head out of the bathroom. Dave is gone. You open the door the rest of the way and step out into your room. It looks a lot better. The trash is gone and your clothes, even the semi-clean ones, have been picked up and put in the hamper. Guess you'll be doing the laundry today. He left your stuff alone, but you prefer it that way. Its embarrassing enough that he did those two things for you. You had only just thrown on some jeans and a t-shirt when there's a knock at the door.

You open it to see Roxy and Karkat. He's a little surprised that you opened the door so quickly. Or maybe its the wet hair implying that you showered. His surprise draws back to a scowl fairly quickly. "He's your problem now, Roxy. Eat a sandwich, dumbass." He shoves a sandwich, clearly smuggled out of the cafeteria in a napkin, into your hands before giving Roxy a look and storming off back to his room. Love you too, KK. The corner of your mouth twitches into a weak smile. He's a good friend and you're lucky to have him.

"Alright you," Roxy says as she grabs your shoulders and steers you backward into the room. "Here's what we're gonna do. First, you're gonna eat that sandwich while I START your laundry. Then we're gonna go through your project because it's due next class."

"Oh Roxy, you're going to give me the vapors if you keep talking like that." She gives you a look because you're being a smartass and a gentle shove so you sit on the edge of the bed.

"Eat."

"Yes, ma'am."

She rolls her eyes at you. "Where do you keep the laundry soap?" You point up to the shelf on top of your closet. You've got those little pod things. She grabs one and tosses it on top of the laundry basket before looking around curiously. "Did you clean?"

You put your hand to your chest in mock offense and swallow the food in your mouth before responding. "You say that like I never do." She crosses her arms and shifts her weight to one leg, her head tilting to the side. "Okay, you got me. Dave did. He owed me a solid. Barged his way in here and declared that he was redeeming it for me." That's not exactly how it went down, but you're allowed to retain some of your dignity.

Her expression softens at this. "He's a good guy." There's a glimmer of sadness in her eyes. It's only there for a moment before she shifts her focus back to you. She walks over and leans down, gently letting her fingertips rest at the base of your horns, and kisses the top of your head. "I'll be back in a few. You better be here and you better open that door for me." She goes to pick up the basket and shifts it to her hip so she can gesture with two of her fingers from her eyes to you rather pointedly, before maneuvering out the door. There's that sweetness again. Too sweet to be hate, but still antagonistic and full of fire.

When she comes back, the two of you go over what still needs to be done with your project. Luckily it isn't much, and when the alarm Roxy set for the laundry goes off, you're just about done looking it over. She shoo's you off to go move your stuff to the dryer while she looks at the progress you've made. It's riddled with errors and she makes sure to point that out. You're really off your game, but it's more than you would have accomplished otherwise. When you're laundry is done and crammed back in your dresser (Roxy tried to tell you to fold it, but couldn't keep a straight face) you flop back onto the bed. Roxy flops down beside you, letting her arm drape over your stomach.

"Am I done being responsible yet?" you whine. 

"Yeah, that's enough to satisfy Karkat's request that I make you functional again." She props herself up on her elbows and looms over you. There's a reckless smile on her face that says she's been keeping part of the plan from you. "Now, it's time for therapy Roxy style." She says as she springs up and off the bed before pulling you to your feet. Oh, you know where this is going and you could not approve more.

#  ==> Sollux: Be a degenerate

The barcade isn't too far from campus for obvious reasons. It's a little bit of a trek, but not unreasonable. You can cheat the distance a bit on the way there though. It's dark out when you take Roxy's hand and pull the two of you into the sky. You don't actually have to make contact with her for your psy-onics to carry her, but you want to.

You touch back down when you're a little more than halfway there on one of the back roads. There's a burst of light behind your cupped hand as you light a joint, followed by a familiar soft orange glow. You tell yourself that this afternoon doesn't count because it was only one hit, two if you count the one Dave interrupted when he climbed up the ladder, but you don't. Barely anything. You're fine. You're out to have fun with Roxy. It's fine.

You turn down a side street and downtown is now in your line of sight. You take another drag and hold it before blowing it up and out into the night sky. "You want a shottie?" you ask before you move to snuff it out.

"Hit me," Roxy says as she stops and turns to face you. Her eyes are all lit up in anticipation of the fun you're going to have tonight. You take another drag. This one you don't hold in as long and instead you pull Roxy closer, one hand on her jaw, lips barely touching as you slowly exhale and let her take the smoke from your lungs. She never smokes with you, but sometimes she'll ask for that, and sometimes you'll offer. She prefers her vices in liquid form.

She steals a kiss and you smile into it before she pulls away. She always blows the smoke out of her nose like a dragon. It's cute. You snuff out what's left of the joint on the side of your shoe before returning it to the thin plastic tube it came out of. It's supposed to be for holding cigarette butts, saving the environment and whatnot, but it's perfect for this the way the stopper seals away the smell.

The barcade was originally an arcade so it has that tacky trippy UV reactive carpeting throughout most of the place. There are rows of older cabinets taking up most of the back corner where it blends into newer cabinets and shooter games, then the rhythm games, booths, and the claw machines ending at the front. The arcade side is separated from the bar by two air hockey tables and a wealth of places to sit down to eat or otherwise chill. Crammed in the other back corner are a few pool tables near the patio exit.

Roxy makes a b-line for the bar while you go get tokens. You two never spend more than a few dollars. Arcades aren't expensive if you don't suck. Except for the DDR machine; it takes no prisoners with it's set quantity of time.

You have two machines that you consider your machines; Galaga and Gyruss. Roxy's are Duck Hunt and Time Crisis. You can give her a run for her money when you play doubles with her on Time Crisis because it's Time Crisis and amazing. Who doesn't love Time Crisis? She's not bad with a joystick either and is always keeping you on your toes with your Galaga score. You both hold the high scores on your respective machines. Although lately, someone who goes by D STRI has been climbing your leaderboards along with those on a few other machines. You head over to the Galaga machine and sure enough, that bastard has crept up to the fourth slot.

"Oh, hells no. Get 'em, babe." Roxy says before chugging down nearly half her drink. You need very little encouragement to knock this guy off your board. You pop in a token and get ready as the theme plays. You have twin fighters in the hottest of seconds and are blowing through stages. You're completely zeroed in on this and barely notice that Roxy left and came back until she's over your shoulder again with commentary such as "fuck em up, Sollux", "oh shit oh shit oh shit", "Nooooo", "Twin fighters, huh?"

She wanders off to check her own scoreboards and leaves you to it. You eventually die and wait to see the final results. Take that D STRI. You knock the mystery player down to fifth and put your name in. The cap is 6 characters so it just makes it.

You head over toward the light gun games and see Roxy knocking ducks out of the sky at high speed. She holds the zapper like a rifle, aiming with her locked left arm, her stance solid and determined. It's impressive. The dog gets her in the end, as it always does, but she blows on the barrel in triumph having cleared enough levels to knock some chump off her board.

You do a few rounds of light gun games together, you can never seem to beat her at House of the Dead, before she pulls you back to the bar. It's her third you think. You steal a swig and make your way back over to the machines. Soon enough she's pulling you over to the dance games. They're occupied, but that's okay. It gives her time to enjoy her drink. You stick your token on the machine and half lean, half sit on one of the faux speakers on either side of it. She takes a sip of her drink before wrapping her arms around your neck and leaning in close to your ear.

"You look stoned as shit," she whispers before trying and failing to stifle a laugh.

"ehhehheh, I wonder why."

"I wanna kiss you."

"Only if you beat me."

She pulls away and gets a steeled look in her eye as she leans back and points at you with the bottle in her hand. "Get ready to pucker up, lover boy. And no special fx." One of the other machines frees up and she runs over to it. You grab your token off the machine you were leaning against and switch to the one Roxy is feeding coins into.

You put up a good fight. Honest, you did.

"Suck it, Captor! Lalonde reins supreenn." She grabs the front of your shirt and practically smashes her face into yours. Your back hits the machine and the kiss breaks apart to come back together in a more cohesive, but just as aggressive manner. It leaves you dazed. When she lets you up she winks at you and chugs the rest of her drink. You swear she does that when you're spaced on purpose.

You get yourself some water after all that movement and only then realize how thirsty you are. Roxy presses a bottle into your hand and says she's gotta take a wicked piss. You nod and tell her you'll be out back. It must be getting late because the crowd has gotten significantly thicker. When you push your way through and open the patio door, you're greeted by a blast of cool air. It's almost as sobering as it is refreshing.

There are some other people out here. It's less a patio and more the alley behind the building with a few tables and chairs. There's a troll standing with her back to you. She has long black curly hair and her horns curl back and around just like...

"Aradia?" you whisper so faintly that you're not even sure you said it. She turns to her friend and it is most certainly not Aradia. You shake away the thought, take out the little plastic container and ascend to the roof. You're only up there for a few minutes when you see Roxie's pink hair. You float her drink back to her and she looks up at you.

You'll play fast and loose with your own well being when you're fucked up, but you won't use your psy-onics on others. You hold up a finger and take one last long drag before tossing the roach with the other ones up here for whoever is desperate enough to take them. You float back down to her and stumble a bit when you land.

She laughs and wraps her arms around you, sending the both of you stumbling in the other direction and into the wall. You resign to leaning up against it. Roxy spins around so her back is pressed to you instead. You space out for a bit there, content with the weight against you, and are only brought back to earth when Roxy steals your glasses.

"Wanna get outta here?" she asks, looking up at you over your glasses.

"Fuck yeah."

The two of you stumble back to campus, back to your dorm, and into the elevator. Everything is hazy and warm. She hits a button. It's not your floor. You're going to her room. It's only a matter of moments before you're falling back into her down comforter. It's like a fucking cloud and it feels good against your skin. She curls up next to you. You let your mind wander.

"You're right, Roxy," you say after some time.

"Mmhmm, tote-ly. What's I'm right 'bout?" she slurs partly because she's really drunk and partly you think because she may have been falling asleep.

"Dave's cool," You mumble. She laughs and rolls over and then back to look at you.

"Daves'so far from cool. You dun even know."

"No, like," You laugh into her neck. "You were right. I don't not not like, wait, no. I. Dave is okay."

"I knew it," she gloats as she scoots over to lay half on top of you. You wrap your arms around her. This is nice. You like this. It's simple. It's-- oh.

"Your knee is in my crotch."

"mmhmm's my thigh. has a time-share."

A small chuckle escapes you. You let her win that one. You know she wants more than you're giving her. She is literally on top of you. All you would have to do is ask. But you don't.

"Roxy?" She makes a hm? sound and picks her head up off your chest to look at you. "Hypothetic hypothetically speaking," you pause to re-collect your thought. "would it be okay, would you be okay with me having a moirail?" She lets her head fall back against you and gives you a squeeze.

"mmhmm. am yur kissis is-is."

You think that was a yes. You should probably ask her again later. If you have the guts to.


	5. Dumb Anime Shades

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw panic attack
> 
> it's fairly detailed so reader beware etcetera etcetera
> 
> also idk but i was fucking feeling youth by glass animals while writing this so yeah

#  ==> Be Dave.

Today is the day. You've waited seven long years for this. Seven years of sneaking around, of pretending, of waking up in a cold sweat alone, or worse, with that creepy puppet, Cal, on top of you. But it all ends today.

You are beyond amped as you hop off the bus and make your way down the street. Dirk had the morning shift today. He didn't say where of course, but you're meeting up after he gets out to grab a slice and catch up. It's a little farther in than the area where the college kids usually hang around. The electronics shop is up here so you're a little familiar with the area, but it's still pretty new to you.

The pizzeria he told you about, the one with the brick oven, should be right around here somewhere. You're about to pull out your phone and check your maps app when you see him. White collar, black pants, pointed shades. Not Dirk, Bro. He almost has his back to you. You swear you can feel the color drain from your face. You're frozen to the spot on the corner where you stand, until he turns, not completely toward you, but you can tell by the subtle way his head snaps that he's seen you.

And suddenly your body remembers it has legs. Your heart races and you bolt down side streets and alleyways blindly without any idea of a direction except away and fast. You're gasping for air, but you keep moving, flash stepping to change direction on a dime. The world around you is a blur.

How did he find you so quickly? You're almost 2,000 miles away. You were so careful. Dirk was so careful. He took risks, sure, but he had to. None of your friends would have ratted you out. Not even the girls' mother would have ratted you out. As awful as she is, she and Bro are estranged. Where did you go wrong? Where did you fuck up? It had to be you. You must have left something behind that tipped him off.

You turn down another side street and collide with something fast and hard. You break your own fall and spring back up on your feet, years of horrendous training having given you some odd but useful reflexes. However, when you try to open your eyes, you're greeted by blinding light. Your shades must have been knocked off when you hit...oh god what did you hit? Who did you hit? You don't realize you're backing away until you feel the wall behind you. You can see a figure, but your eyes can't adjust fast enough to see who it is. You're so fucking dead. He's gonna be so mad. He hits you hard enough when he isn't pissed at you.

"Who's there?" you shout. It's difficult to get the words out. You're still breathing pretty hard. You're sword drops into your left hand from your strife specibus. They're still coming towards you. "Get away from me!" You go to back away, but you're still up against the wall. You tighten your grip on your sword and try to brace for the strife you know is coming.

"Dave, calm down. It's me."

Not Bro. It's not Bro.

"Sollux?" You can barely get his name out. You're still panting so hard. You're gasping for air, but you just can't seem to catch your breath. Is that you making that sound? It's awful. Like a shriek played in reverse with the volume turned down. Your sword disappears back into your specibus. He's coming closer and you can see him a little better, but everything is still so bright that you can only open your eyes to thin slits. You bring your hand up to try to blot out the sun. You're legs falter and now the wall is the only thing keeping you upright.

"Dave, what's wrong?" He's moving slowly and carefully. His hands brace your shoulders. You're shaking. Your lips are going numb. "Hey, look at me. Dave, look at me. Shit, you're hyperventilating."

"Can't. See." you say, gasping for air between words.

"You can't see? Like, at all?"

Your shades, they're clipped to his shirt. He must have seen you drop them. You reach out for them, but forget about the sun and are treated to a not so great surprise.

"Whoa," you hear him say. He probably saw your eyes before you shut them again. That's the least of your concerns right now. You fumble for your glasses, but your fingers won't cooperate. "I got it." As soon as he lets go of you, you slide further down the wall to the ground. Your legs are all pins and needles. You still can't catch your breath, but your shades are being slid back onto your face. You can see again.

"I can't. Breathe."

"It's okay. Here." He uncaps a water bottle and presses it into your hand, making sure your fingers curl around it. You still nearly drop it and have to hold it with both hands instead. "Slow. That's it." When you pull it away, breathing is a little easier. You drink more before it can speed up again, but it goes down wrong and you start coughing. You're pulled forward and then there is a hand on your back rubbing slow circles. You try again, sipping the water slower this time. He's in front of you now asking what happened. It all comes back to you in a flash and your eyes dart in panic as you look for Bro. He could be anywhere. Always look up. That's what he told you.

"Whoa, take it easy. You're okay, Dave," Sollux says, tightly gripping your shoulders again as you try and fail to get to your feet. You're legs still won't cooperate. It's no good. You need to move. You're dead in the water like this.

"No, Bro is here." You swallow hard and make that awful gasping sound again as you try to take in air. "He's here. Knows I was. Seeing Dirk." Your words are punctuated by more desperate gulps of air. Sollux pushes the water toward you again and has to remind you not to drink so fast. "Not safe. Need to get out of here. Not safe," you pant. You lean back against the brick wall. It's the first time you've really looked at him. It's because he's making you look at him. His hand is on your jaw. His eyes are locked on yours and he's speaking softly to you.

"Dave, you're safe. It's okay."

"No, he's coming, he's--"

"Dave," He interrupts you. His's voice is gentle, but firm and calls your attention. "I can shoot lasers from my eyes. I'm pretty sure you'll be fine." He smiles reassuringly.

"You what?" It's weird enough to momentarily snap you from your panic. You drink more water. You can almost breathe again, but the progress feels so fragile like you could slip back under at any moment.

"Dave, do you know what's going on?" He keeps using your name. It's weirdly comforting, grounding. You shake you're head. Maybe you're dying. Fuck if you know. "You're panicking," He says. "You need to try to breathe more normally. Hold your breath for a few seconds and try again. Through your nose, out your mouth. Lean forward." You follow his directions, latching onto his arm as you bend toward him and let your head hang. You can tell you're starting to feel better because shame is a thing again. This is suddenly incredibly embarrassing. "I'm sorry," you choke out because you have no idea what else to say. He just keeps rubbing your back while you keep breathing.

There's a sudden shift in the air and you sit bolt upright. He's there at the end of the alley. You're eyes go wide and your grip on Sollux tightens. Bro. His name is stuck on repeat as your mind reels in panic again. And then the strangest thing happens. A sensation not unlike static spreads over your skin. Red and Blue lightening arcs off of Sollux, crackling and sparking. His eyes are glowing and he's making this low sound that you can barely hear, like it's only just teetering on the threshold you can perceive, but you can feel it thrumming through him. Safe. He said you were safe. That fucker wasn't kidding.

It's distracting enough to halt you from completely undoing all the work you just did calming down. And then you see it. Bro is holding his hands up, palms out in front of himself like he's surrendering. Bro would never do that. The scar on his neck. Not Bro. Dirk. It's Dirk.

"Sollux, wait. That's Dirk. It's not him." You force out, tugging his arm and trying to move between them unsuccessfully. You only manage to pull yourself to your knees, but that's okay because it seems that Sollux understood. The lightning is gone and the static on your skin has dissipated.

He's coming over slowly with his hands still up until he's sure Sollux has stood down. Polo shirt. It's grey, not white. Black pants. They're slacks, not jeans. No piercings... because he was coming from work. He's in his work clothes.

"Sorry." His voice comes out of the small red box strapped to his neck even though he moves his mouth. You know it's mostly there for show. It's just a speaker bluetoothed to his shades, nothing special. It's only on his neck so people don't ask questions. The ugly scar across it answers enough. "I know I look a lot like him. I should have... I didn't realize until you took off running." It wasn't like Bro wore the same thing all the time, but it was something he wore an awful lot.

You hold up your fist for him to bump it. Your voice is still shaky when you speak. "It's cool." He smiles and doesn't leave you hanging. You stare at him. You aren't sure what to feel right now. Mostly you feel overwhelmed. The embarrassment is still very much present though. You glance over to the troll on your right. You're still holding onto him; he looks uncertain and a little uncomfortable. Well, shit. Things are already weird. Might as well go full tilt. You launch yourself at Dirk, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his collar. You missed him so much.

"Whoa, hey there." He says as he catches his balance. Arms come around you a second later, holding you just as tightly. You stay that way until you hear Sollux clear his throat.

"Should I go?" This is probably super weird for him. You crash into him, freak the hell out, and now you're over here having the worlds most unconventional family reunion in front of him.

"Sorry, man," You laugh nervously. "this is Dirk, my older bro ."

"Not the 'bro' you were talking about?"

"No, that's Bro with a capital b. Not short for brother. My older older brother though." Sollux raises an eyebrow and looks up like he's trying to parse that and figure out what Bro is short for, but he doesn't ask. "If you want to peace out, it's fine. You probably weren't standing here all day just waiting for me to run into you at mach five chock full of crazy."

He looks to the side at his backpack. It's on its side and some of its contents are spilled out like it was opened in a hurry. There's a small box that says SSD in big letters on the side. "I was just picking up a hard drive. Been meaning to fix my husktop. You didn't interrupt much." That's good. You would have felt bad if you freaking the fuck out had made him miss something or be late somewhere. "I'll get going." You nod and give a weak wave in lu of an actual response. He picks up his bag and stands to leave before looking back hesitantly. You think he's checking to make sure he didn't miss anything until he speaks to you. "If...if you want to like, talk about this later. That'd be okay." He turns his face away.

It could be that you're still in mental disarray, but you think you may actually take him up on that. He really seemed to know what was going on, and you should thank him properly when you can more reliably string together sentences. "I, yeah, thanks. I'll catchya later." He glances over his shoulder and gives you a quick wave as he disappears down the alley. Dirk comes to sit next to you and you lean against his shoulder. Sollux's water, your water now you guess, is still in your hand. There isn't much left. You take a sip.

"Your friend is terrifying."

"What?" you say with a weak sort of disbelieving laugh.

"Did you see all the energy that came off that kid? And that was just a warning shot. He was ready to fuck me up." 

You don't really have a frame of reference for how powerful psy-onics are. You guess Dirk does and apparently Sollux is pretty strong.

"He thought you were Bro. I think I said some shit about that."

"I bet."

"Part of my mouth is numb."

"That can happen."

"My legs too."

"It'll come back in a minute."

He wraps his arm around you and rubs your shoulder. There's a tight feeling in your chest. You don't want to stay here anymore.

"Help me up?" You ask him. He pulls you to your feet, but when you go to stand your foot isn't having it. You wince and carefully test your weight on it. You were making some pretty wicked turns back there, you must have twisted it. 

"Here, hop on," Dirk says, kneeling down so you can climb on his back.

"I'm not five, Dirk." You are not being piggybacked out of this alley.

"It's either this or I carry you."

You are being piggybacked out of the alley. It really isn't so bad. It's kind of nice actually. You're still pretty shaken up and Dirk has always made you feel safe. Well, safer you suppose. It was never really safe. You must have gotten turned around somehow while you were running because it doesn't feel like it takes too long to get back to where you started. He takes you to the parking lot and kneels down beside a beat-up Jeep, the kind you can take the cover off of and drive with the back and side open. You suspect it used to be yellow, but he spray painted it black. Dirk would do that. Best to not stand out if you're hiding. He goes around to the driver's side and unlocks it. You pull on the handle too soon and he has to unlock it again for you. You hop up onto the seat and undo your laces before gently tugging off your shoe. This isn't the first time you've been through this and it won't be fun if your ankle swells later. "I figure you're not up to getting pizza right now, so how about we go back to the apartment and order in. We can wrap your foot up too."

"Yeah, sounds good." Your voice is a little shaky. You pull up your hood like a security blanket and buckle yourself in. The car starts up and you mostly zone out for the drive there, staring out the window, but not really paying attention to the world passing by you. Doesn't take long before you're there. The neighborhood doesn't exactly look nice, but it's not awful either. This time Dirk just scoops you up for the short walk to the door. It's on the upper level of the two-story building. Thankfully no one is around to see you being babied like this. Totally not cool, but you'll always be a kid in your brother's eyes you suppose. He used to patch you up like this all the time.

You're set down on the sofa and Dirk disappears to another room, the bathroom you assume, and comes back with an ace bandage. "It doesn't look too bad. You should be good as long as you stay off it for a few days." He says as he wraps it up. "You have classes tomorrow? I think Jake might have crutches if you need them."

"Nah, I'm good for the weekend. So who is Jake?" Dirk's face goes red and he looks down and away. You chuckle. "Is he your boyfriend?" You tease in a singsong tone.

"He might be," He mumbles.

"He is." A different voice comes out of the red box strapped to Dirk's neck. He looks betrayed as he quickly covers the speaker with his hand.

"Hey, Hal," you say.

"Hello, Dave. Good to see you again." It comes through a bit muffled, but you can still hear it. Dirk takes his shades off, pulls the speaker off his neck, and sets them both on the table. "You two can catch up. While I order the pizza."

You hold back the frown that threatens to appear at the sound of Dirk's actual voice. A permanent reminder of just how far Bro will go. Sure Bro was tough on the both of you, but up until that point, you never thought he'd go that far. Dirk thinks Bro meant to kill him, and you certainly don't blame him for that assumption. You though, you're not entirely sure if that was his intention, or if he lost control, and you aren't sure which is worse. You catch up with Hal for a bit until Dirk sits down next to you and flicks on the tv. "How're you doing? Are you alright?" He asks. You take a deep breath and nod your head.

"Yeah, sort of. Better than before." The memory is still fresh and the fear is still an afterimage in your mind. Something else is there too though. Some feeling you're unsure of. You don't know what it is exactly, just that it's tied to Sollux. You must have zoned out a little because there is a hand on your shoulder suddenly, jarring you from thought.

"I'll be right back. Gonna change." He disappears and you're left alone with Hal. His eyes appear on the shades like he's shifted his focus back to you.

"He's looking more and more like Bro. You would think they're twins." He says in that voice you know is more robotic than need be. He modulates Dirk's voice, or what used to be his voice, just fine.

"Yeah, I noticed," you say with a huff.

"It bothers him too."

"I imagine it would bother anyone to look like the guy who tried to kill you." You're not sure what Hal is getting at and you're not really in the mood for it anyway. You feel ripped open and raw. Things you've been jamming down inside are starting to bubble to the surface. Dirk Comes back out looking much more like himself. He's got his piercings jammed back in his ears and his eyebrow, and his tattoos are on display with his sleeveless hoodie. Bro always hated his tattoos, the piercings too. You think Dirk pierced his tongue just to spite him.

The doorbell rings and Dirk goes to grab the food. He's in the kitchen for a bit before he comes back with your slices and a glass of AJ. It puts a small smile on your face. You're not really hungry anymore, but you eat regardless. Dirk sits down with slices of his own and some orange soda. He tells you about what he's been doing. This Jake guy turns out to be the same Jake as the one in your extended friend group. Even if you don't talk to Jake that often, and he's more so Jade's brother to you, the fact that you didn't know only reminds you how out of the loop you are on Dirk's life. He's got a job doing some basic tech support and making frankentops on the side. He tells you it's amazing what people will throw away, perfectly fixable computers. He's given up on college, but he's trying to cobble together different certifications to prove his skills. They cost a fair chunk of change though, so it's been slow going.

You find out that he's been claiming you as a dependant for the past year, and you're on his health insurance. He laughs and says it isn't the worst fraud he's committed. You know he's referring to how Rose and Roxy helped him and Hal skim their mother's bank account when he really needed money. They had it down to a science how much and how often they could take without her noticing. You remember that time, right after Dirk got kicked out. Bro changed the locks so Dirk couldn't come back after he got out of the hospital.

"You look tired. Do you want me to take you back to the school?" You nod. It's been a hell of a day. It's barely dark out, but you fully intend to embrace unconsciousness the second you get back.

# ==> Be Sollux.

You are a terrible, awful, awful person. You were doing a half decent job of telling your feelings to fuck off, but after today it is painfully obvious. You pity Dave; you pity him so hard. You pull the covers over your head and curl up into a ball. What were you supposed to do though? Just leave him there?

You know what that feeling was now. You couldn't put your prong on it before when the two of you were up there on the roof that night, but it's clear now. Dave is all broken up inside just like you, and you felt that. To a certain extent, you don't give a fuck that people know you're crazy. It's not like you walk around openly displaying your feelings, but it's old news that you're messed up in the head. Not for Dave though. He has this shell around him, a wall he's put up, and it's full of cracks. How long it's been that way you don't know.

You replay it in your head. You caught yourself with your psy-onics, but he pulled off some kind of freakish acrobatics and sprung back up on his feet. Then he brandished a fucking sword at you, terrified out of his mind like a feral beast.

And you just rushed to him like a desperate fool. Nearly stepped on those sunglasses, which apparently aren't really sunglasses so much as they are prescription lenses. You've never seen eyes like those. You didn't think humans could have red eyes. You gather that they aren't supposed to.

He needed you, and a part of you really liked that he needed you. You feel horribly guilty about that. Gog, you're a pale harlot. The whole thing was wildly inappropriate. 'But he needed you,' you tell yourself. There was no one else to help. Even if there was, would he have trusted them? He trusted you completely. As soon as he knew it was you he put away his weapon. He couldn't SEE and he let you get within arm's length of him. The way he clung to you, you nearly chirped at him.

And holy shit, you growled at his brother. He couldn't have possibly heard it, but it doesn't erase the fact that you did it. You have a massive pale crush on Dave and the worst part is that he's entirely oblivious. It's not just that he's oblivious to your feelings, but oblivious to the implications of your actions and how terribly terribly unseemly it was of you. You can't even apologize because he doesn't understand what you did wrong. But he needed you. He wanted your help. He thanked you.

You make a nasally whine and turn over to curl up in the other direction. Uggh, and then you proceeded to solicit him instead of just sweeping everything under the rug and pretending it never happened. You are scum.

twinArmageddons [T A] began trolling carcinoGeneticist [C G].

T A: kk i fucked up.

T A: i fucked up so bad.

C G: ARE YOU OKAY?

T A: physically yes.

C G: WHAT DID YOU DO?

T A: i pale solicited dave like two seconds after he had a panic attack because im a fucking creep.

C G: YOU WHAT?

C G: OKAY IM GOING TO NEED YOU TO ELABORATE ON THAT BECAUSE HE CAME BACK HERE ACTING ALL WEIRD A LITTLE WHILE AGO.

T A: weird how?

C G: SOME GUY BROUGHT HIM UP HERE. SOMETHING IS WRONG WITH HIS FOOT AND HE'S EERILY QUIET. THIS GUY NEVER SHUTS THE FUCK UP. IT'S UNCANNY. WHAT DID YOU DO?

T A: he's hurt?

T A: i was going two pick up a new ssd for my laptop and on the way back he just came running out of nowhere.

T A: he crashed right into me and proceeded two freak out like some cornered beast, he was terrified.

T A: it was hard to understand him but he seemed two think someone was after him.

T A: he was going two pass out if i didn't do something, i swear!

T A: what was i supposed two do just leave him there?

C G: YOU SOUND LIKE YOU'RE TRYING TO JUSTIFY YOURSELF, BUT it ISN'T ENTIRELY UNREASONABLE.

C G: DO YOU KNOW WHO THAT GUY WAS?

T A: his brother maybe?

T A: was he wearing dumb anime shades?

C G: YES. I THOUGHT *DAVE'S* GLASSES WERE DUMB, BUT it WOULD SEEM HE IS ACTUALLY THE MORE NORMAL ONE. WHO WOULD HAVE GUESSED.

C G: SO WHAT EXACTLY DID YOU DO TO SOLICIT HIM? I DON'T THINK MEDICAL ATTENTION REALLY QUALIFIES.

T A: his brother showed up, i guess they were meeting someplace when he freaked out.

T A: before i left i told him we could talk about it later if he wanted.

C G: SOLLUX, FOR A GUY WHO'S SO FUCKING SMART, YOU'RE A REAL DUMBASS SOMETIMES. DID HE SEEM COOL WITH it OR DID HE TELL YOU TO GO FUCK YOURSELF?

T A: he seemed not opposed two the idea.

C G: CONGRATZ, it WOULD APPEAR YOU GAVE SOMEONE MEDICAL ATTENTION AND THEN OFFERED TO FOLLOW UP WITH THEM LATER.

T A: no it's not just that!

T A: there were feelings!

T A: i growled at his brother for fucks sake.

T A: he was so scared and it's not like i knew it was his bro .

C G: OKAY WELL, THAT IS A LITTLE DIFFERENT, BUT IT'S STILL REALLY NOT AS BAD AS YOU'RE MAKING it OUT TO BE. AND HONESTLY, I DOUBT HE SEES it THAT WAY. HE'S NOT EXACTLY WELL VERSED IN TROLL CULTURE, WHICH IS UNDERSTANDABLE SINCE HE'S FROM TEXAS.

C G: SO YOU THREW YOURSELF AT YOUR PALE CRUSH, WHICH I TOTALLY CALLED BY THE WAY, JUST SAYING, AND MADE A FOOL OF YOURSELF. BIG DEAL. it HAPPENS. IF HE'S ACTUALLY ANGRY AT YOU, WHICH I HIGHLY DOUBT, JUST APOLOGIZE AND MOVE ON.

T A: i guess you're right.

C G: OF COURSE I AM, ASSHOLE.

C G: DO YOU WANT TO WATCH A MOVIE?

T A: yeah, sure.

C G: GREAT, I'LL BE OVER IN A SECOND.

carcinoGeneticist [C G] has ceased trolling twinArmageddons [T A].

# ==> Be Dirk.

You're lying in bed with Jake. You've got your head resting on his shoulder while he plays with your hair and lets you talk close by his ear. It's hard for you to project your voice, but at this volume, it almost sounds like it used to, like you could simply be whispering. When you asked him to spend the night he probably didn't have this in mind.

"I didn't notice until I saw my reflection in the window. I was going to message him, tell him I was going to be late, but he was already there. I could see him in the glass, just standing there. I barely moved and he bolted. I've never seen him run so fast." Jake stops running his fingers through your hair so that he can place a kiss to your temple. When he speaks, it's against your skin.

"I don't think it can really be helped that you look so similar to your brother, but I hardly think that to be the only factor at play here." You make a questioning sound against his neck and he continues. "Well, he's all discombobulated right now. He's been up here not even a month. Plus he hasn't seen you in years, photographs maybe, but he hasn't seen you in person in a long time. You've changed since then, you're older, probably taller, broader, more muscular" you give him a playful nudge at the way he starts talking like he's getting distracted by a particular mental image of you. "Okay okay, the fact of the matter is that your overall shape combined with what you were wearing simply slotted better in his noggin as being Bro shaped at a glance. From there it was just panic induced trickery."

On some level, you knew this, but you really needed to hear it from someone else who wasn't also you. "You're right. I just worry about him. He's doing fine and it's not like he's alone up there. He's got Roxy in the same building and her...what was it called ...the spade one ....kismesis; Roxy's kismesis is right across the hall from him." Jake shifts to lay on his side and you snuggle up against him, tangling your legs with his and burying yourself in his embrace.

"He's the troll kid you found Dave with, right?"

"Yeah, I had never met him before, but Roxy sent me a photo once. He's something else, Jake."

"What makes you say that?"

"You know how Hal is built into my shades?"

"How could I forget?"

"I mean, okay, so sometimes when I would strife with Bro, Hal would feed me combat advice. He would tell me to evade or point out attack openings, things like that. That guy, when he thought I was there to hurt Dave, he was lit up like a goddamn Christmas tree. Hal told me to run."

"That's pretty gosh darn intense, Dirk. Roxy sure knows how to pick em."

He laughs and it makes you laugh too until it dissolves into a hum and then a comfortable silence between you as you occupy the same space. Dave will be okay. He has people around him now who can help him. You got him out, you got him here, and while you would sooner die than let anything happen to him, it's not only up to you. Things will calm down. It'll be better next time you see him. You know it will.

You tilt your head up. "Hey, Jake?" you say against his throat. He doesn't look down.

"Yes, Dirk?"

You kiss his neck and feel him shiver. "So you think I'm broad and muscular and flexible?"

He laughs deep in his throat. "I don't remember saying you were flexible."

"I think you might be right." You press up against him and kiss his neck again a little lower. "Guess we'll have to test that theory." His hand guides you by the jaw to meet his gaze as he looks at you.

"For science, huh?"

"Of course."

# ==> Be Dave.

You hadn't really planned on doing anything this weekend, but now that you can't, you find yourself incredibly bored. What did you even do on the internet all the time? Right now you can't seem to recall anything remotely entertaining. Maybe you're just distracted. There has been an awful lot on your mind in the past 48 hours.

You were still too worked up yesterday to talk to Sollux, but you really shouldn't put it off for too long. The longer you wait, the bigger a deal it becomes until it turns into this awkward unspoken thing between the two of you and you never speak to him again and that would suck so much. That thought actually physically hurts you somewhere in your chest. Never speaking to Sollux again because you bruised your ego? That's not a future you're down with at all. He's snarky and a little weird, but you think you might legitimately enjoy his company.

turntechGodhead [T G] began pestering twinArmageddons [T A].

T G: hey.

T G: are you actually online.

T G: shit whatever ill just get this out before it gets weird.

T G: look about the other day i just wanted to say thanks you really seemed to know what you were doing there like 10 out of 10 stars, would recommend to friends and neighbors.

T G: it was cool of you and.

T G: if hallmark makes a card for sorry i threatened you with a katana i will slap my money on the counter so fast.

T G: the cashier wont know what hit em.

T G: you back yet.

T G: nope.

T G: guess i'll keep talking.

T G: since im already down here stroking your ego my brother thinks you are terrifying.

T G: i have the most limited frame of reference for your tesla coil fuckery but i guess your shit is wack because dirk isnt exactly the kind to be easily intimidated.

T A: my shit is indeed wack.

T A: let me know if you find a 'sorry i threatened two vaporize your brother' card while you are looking for mine.

T G: welcome back.

T G: or welcome i guess.

T A: you are difficult to ignore.

T G: its a gift.

T G: but yeah so thanks and what not.

T A: no problem.

T A: i've been there before and it sucks ass zero out of 0000 10 10.

T G: nerd.

T A: yes, that is kind of my thing.

T A: so, i have a question.

T G: shoot.

T A: it's a bit ironic coming from me.

T G: well now you have me interested.

T G: im always down for some of that sweet sweet irony.

T G: lay on the cringe.

T A: im going to pretend that i totally believe you understand what irony actually is for the sake of getting to my point.

T A: so what is up with your eyes?

T A: i didn't think that was a color humans could have.

T G: so you know how roxy has pink eyes.

T G: mine are like the same but worse.

T A: are you telling me that that is the actual color of roxy's eyes?

T G: are you telling me you don't know what color your girlfriends eyes are?

T A: she isn't my girlfriend, she is my kismesis.

T G: whatever.

T G: you dont know what color eyes your hate mate has?

T A: i can't believe this the entire time, i thought they were contacts.

T A: new question.

T A: why do you and roxy have weird eyes?

T G: shitty genetics, the whole fam has weird eyes but im the big winner of the photo-sensitivity jackpot, giant paper check of hope you like darkness bitch.

T G: apparently god has taken the time to wipe instead of just continuously shitting on me tho because dirk thought ahead to put me on his insurance so i can go see one of those real live eye doctors and maybe get this addressed by an actual medical professional instead of relying on ben stillers magnificent shades to shield my delicate red eyeballs.

T G: alright you got answers to a fairly personal question so im calling you out and returning the favor.

T A: i suppose that's fair but i can't say im without suspicion.

T G: suck it up bro you asked about my disability now i get to ask about your weird troll thing.

T A: dot dot dot.

T G: that may have come across wrong.

T A: you think?

T G: so back there when my bro showed up and you became a laser light show for the floyd reunion tour you made this sound like, fuck a neon lamp i guess.

T G: it was super low i could barely hear it.

T G: what was that?

T G: yo you still there?

T A: it is a threat response reflex.

T A: i can't make that sound on command.

T G: do trolls have more secret sounds i can't hear cuz as an audio enthusiast i am offended deeply and truly.

T A: keep being offended we have a lot of sounds you can't even hope to hear.

T A: to be honest i'm surprised you could hear that one.

T G: ah well kind of.

T G: it was more like,

T G: just the feeling of sound without the actual sound part if that makes any sense at all.

T A: kind of.

T A: how is your foot?

T A: kk said something was wrong with it.

T G: i just twisted it no big deal.

T G: gotta stay off of it for a few days which you would think would be like fuck yeah gotta do nothing doctors orders but im going out of my mind over here with boredom, like what did i even do all day on the internet that was so great?

T G: hey how familiar with the work of ben stiller and owen willson are you?

T A: this feels like a trap.

T G: it is.

T A: i would say i am not very.

T G: does the word zoolander invoke ecstasy in your very soul?

T A: what is a zoolander?

T G: get your ass over here were watching this movie right here right now because it is a goddamn tragedy that you have gotten this far in your life without having already been exposed to this timeless 2001 classic.

T A: give me like 2 minutes i'm about 200 meters above you.

T G: have you been up there this entire time?

T A: that is a possibility.

twinArmageddons [T A] has ceased pestering turntechGodhead [T G].

# ==> Sollux: land gracefully.

Your face meets the asphalt shortly after the rest of your body. It's less than pleasant and bits of the crumbly blacktop stick to your palms when you push yourself up. You must be hungry. The only time you overshoot or undershoot a landing is when you are fucked up or haven't eaten in a while, and right now you're sober. Shocking, you know, but you need to come up for air sometimes. You do have at least some self respect. You're not going to be high 24/7 like some clowns you know.

turntechGodhead [T G] began trolling twinArmageddons [T A].

T G: you good bro ?

Right, when it comes to the roof Dave has the hearing of a legislacerator.

T A: fantastic.

T A: exemplar really.

T G: cool.

turntechGodhead [T G] ceased trolling twinArmageddons [T A].

You dust yourself off and make your way back to your room. The weather is nice today and your bees seem pretty ecstatic about it. They buzz around you as you come through the window, following you for a bit before going back about their business. You rummage around in the snack hoard that is the middle shelf in your closet and discover that you only have one package of pop tarts left. You'll have to make a note to get more eventually. For now, you grab that and an appleberry blast and make your way over to Dave's room.

You're a little nervous about it. When you hadn't heard anything from him yesterday you were worried that Karkat was wrong and that maybe Dave really was freaked out by you. It was silly really to think he'd contact you right away. Stupid to hope.

Dave greets you from Karkat's wheeled desk chair before propelling himself to the microwave as it dings, clearly mad with power over his scooting abilities. There is a laptop on the bed open to VLC media player and paused on the Paramount Pictures logo. He must actually own the movie, or at the least, quote unquote "own" the movie. You pull over his desk chair, the same school provided one that you have, and take a seat just as he drifts over with a bowl of easy mac. "You can sit on the bed if you want. Only reason I'm not is so I can keep my foot up."

You pull the laptop closer to the middle. "It's fine." He shrugs and starts the movie before leaning back with his feet up on the edge of the bed. He's wearing mismatched holiday socks. For a brief moment you thought that by some strange twist of fate, Dave Strider didn't talk during movies. It turns out he just loves his easy mac.

The minute he sets aside the dish, he starts talking and you breathe a sigh of relief. If you had to sit silently and watch this absurd movie next to your injured pale crush you were going to short circuit the hot second you ran out of toaster pastry. The way he talks through it, but not at points where you'd miss something makes you think he must have seen this a thousand times.

"What's that you're drinking?" he asks, pulling you from the movie you hadn't expected to be so invested in. You hold up the can for him to see the label even though he probably can't read it.

"Appleberry Blast. It's an energy drink that is so artificial they don't have to import any ingredients." They were briefly advertising it that way due to a cultural misunderstanding.

"What's it taste like?"

"Appleberries and a metric fuck ton of sugar." You hold out the can to him and he takes it like drink sharing doesn't mean anything. It means so many things, just not in this context, not to him. You simultaneously die inside and soar. He takes a sip and maybe chokes a little bit?

"Oh my god this is carbonated apple juice," he says before carefully turning the can around in his hands looking for the ingredients before remembering he can't read it anyway, and handing it back to you. "It is without a doubt the most artificial food item to ever grace my tongue, I can still feel my taste buds vibrating, but that's definitely apple juice." You glance at him and then to the ingredients on the can.

"Those bastards."

"It says something like red dye number 6 and artificial fruit flavors parenthesis apple pear and I don't know something outlandish like rutabaga, doesn't it?"

You try to give him your most over the top look of astonishment as you answer. "That is exactly what it says."

"Fucking liar."

"ehh hehhehhehh."

The movie turns out to be the exact kind of awful shit you love to make Karkat watch. A lot of Alternian films have disturbingly similar earth film counterparts. There is a whole subreddit dedicated to finding the counterpart films and entire websites dedicated to conspiracy theories about them. This film doesn't, but when Dave starts talking about the genre-- and further deepening your suspicion that he doesn't know what irony is exactly, you start listing off movies to see if there are any overlapping Alternian versions.

"Wait let me get some pens." You raid Karkat's desk and come back with a red pen and a blue pen, and one of those yellow legal pads. "Alright so, we have In which 'Bill' Biliam Prston Esquir and 'Ted' Theodr Loghan inexplicably venture through time and potentially ruin the fabric of space in order to avoid being culled for failure to comply with school-feeding. Contains wildly inaccurate depictions of history, historical figures--"

"Dude." Dave interupts.

"Right, So we have: 'Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure' and it's troll equivalent, Anchortroll and Anchorman, Blades of Glory and Blades of Glory which are about wildly different sports," You say as you start writing the abbreviated Alternian titles on the left in blue and the Earth titles on the right in red.

"That's insane."

"Hm?" You pick your head up to see him staring at you, but not in the way that usually follows that sentence for you.

"You can just write two things at once like that?"

You shrug. "Yeah, I guess it's easier if you don't have a dominant hand." Okay, so you aren't really that dense. You know it is pretty cool, and there is a chance you may be showing off for him, but you're going to play this nonchalant.

"So you didn't have to practice or anything, you can just do that? Man, that duality bit you have must run deep."

"You have no idea." You smirk and you can see the start of a question on his face when the door opens and Karkat walks in. He gives you a look that asks are you doing what I think you're doing, you better not glub at me later about this. You shoot him one back that says mind your damn beeswax.

"Sup, Karkles?"

"My blood pressure," he answers with agitation clear in his voice.

"What cataclysm has presented itself to you this week?" you ask.

"Oh no, this isn't a cataclysm, this is a chronic infection slowly eating away at whatever still remains of my sanity."

"Kankri?" you ask.

"Kankri." he confirms.

"Who's Kankri?"

"My brother.""His Brother," Karkat and you say simultaneously.

"Well he just sounds like a delight."

"If by a delight, you mean an insufferable fuck, then yes, Dave, he's a delight." Karkat sits on his bed and ruffles his hair before looking over at the two of you and the credits screen behind you. "Did he make you watch that god awful movie too?"

You side eye Dave who just smirks like he's real proud of himself. "You know there's a sequel?" he asks you in an insincerely casual manner.

"Oh really?" you answer in an equally disingenuous tone. The two of you look at Karkat who is having the dawning realization that you are not on his side in this matter and is going on a face journey starting at cognizance, wandering through betrayal, dipping briefly into objection, and finally settling on resignation as Dave sets the movie to full-screen mode.


	6. Family Reunion

# Your name is KARKAT VANTAS and while you do not have the same major as your roommate, you do share many of the same classes.

You are studying writing for film and television and he is studying film for....film you guess. You aren't really sure he's nailed down a focus yet. You've seen him dabble in music and photography, both of which you've been pestered into experiencing. Okay so maybe he is actually pretty good at both, but you will still complain.

You originally were not too happy about the roommate arrangements largely because Sollux was supposed to be your roommate until there was some weird glitch that shuffled a bunch of the rooms in your building. You could have filled out a form to have the issue corrected, however not only would it have been a hassle, but Sollux got a single room out of the mix-up and seemed pretty excited about it, so far be it from you to take that away from him. The other reason you had concerns about your roommate is because you know how to use a search engine and thought to see who this guy was. You found his hipster-ass ironic blog, his sound cloud, and a webcomic that is an affront before God. Your vision still hasn't fully forgiven you yet for subjecting it to that color scheme. When he finally arrived a week late into the semester with only a backpack, you may have felt a little bad and decided to cool your jets and reserve further judgment until later. That lasted for an hour at which point you asked him to kindly shut the fuck up.

Dave has yet to shut up, but you supposed after living with him for a little over a month that you could have done worse. He has some peculiar habits, like the food hoarding and never taking his sunglasses off, but they're harmless and don't really impact you. The mumbling though, you could really do without the constant static that is this guy's thought process leaking out of his noise tube. You've asked him to cut it out a few times and he always says 'sure thing', but it starts back up again sooner or later. However, in the grand scheme of things, it isn't so bad. You'll live. The guy has bigger things to deal with if the night terrors are any indication. You don't bring those up. You don't think he would want you to.

Overall you'd say he's alright. You've thought about this more as of recent because your best friend is ass over end in pity for the guy. Not that he'll do anything about it. His last venture into moirallegiance was...not good. Neither was the one before that. He's more or less the worst kind of pity bait. A "seemed like a good idea at the time" sort of temptation. People would assume he was being open with his problems only to realize those problems run so so very much deeper, get in over their head, and bail on him. You wind up scraping him up off the floor every time because you give too many damns. He's practically your littermate though. Sollux says he is content to have Dave as a friend. However, you see the way he looks at him because you aren't blind. The temptation to meddle is powerful. It's something you plan to talk to Kanaya about. You're really at a crossroad with it. You've wavered back and forth on whether they would be a good match in the first place. It's part of what makes you hesitant. Texas is not a place with a high troll population even in the cities (take a guess why) and thus, Dave can at times be fantastically dumb to some of the finer points of your culture. That's not to say he's xenophobic, not on purpose at least. You've never had to correct him twice on anything that really mattered. He tries. Although, quadrants seem to soar gracefully over his head at high speed. Part of you wonders if it's an act designed to piss you off, or if he really is that emotionally stunted and truly just doesn't get it. Not to mention that humans have that whole sexuality deal going on and you can't get a reed on him. You're not too good at that, to begin with, but Dave is a complete mystery. Just when you think you've figured it out he throws a curved sports sphere at you with his irony bullshit. At the very least, as far as personalities go, you think they get along well.

Presently, the two of you are making your way out of an introductory film class and heading toward the equipment room to reserve a camera for a short assignment largely about editing. The numbers didn't divide evenly so your three-person group is actually a duo for this project.

"Come on, it's October. It's a free pass to do a bad horror movie."

"October has more to offer than your weight in synthetic blood, Dave."

"It doesn't _HAVE_ to be bloody."

You round the corner and walk up to the counter in the equipment room. Calling it a counter is a bit generous. It's more of a long card table with a cheap plastic table cloth over it. Your tuition money hard at work. You grab a pen and start filling out the paper forms. "We're not doing a found footage film either," you say.

"The day I suggest that, you can beat me with the tripod while the Blair witch watches and critiques your performance."

You swap forms and are about to finish filling out your half when you see the date that Dave has put on it. "Dave, we need to do a different day. I'm visiting my moirail that Saturday." He leans over and awkwardly reaches across with his left to change the date by a single digit.

"Boom, done." His handwriting looks like he was writing on the scuttle buggy when it's next to yours. The two of you start to make your way back to the dorms. Dave keeps pushing for the horror angle, but you're just really not feeling it. "Alright, so if you're so opposed to horror, what did you have in mind?"

"Well, we can't forget about our object." You remind him. Everybody was given an object. Your group got a mop.

"Right, the object. The object for our project. The project which involves a designated object," he says with a slow nod.

"You have no idea what our object is, do you?"

"Not a clue."

"It's a mop."

"Oh dude, you're gonna be so proud of me. I'm rising above the sticks. I'm overcoming my upbringing right here. I'm about to be culturally sensitive up in this bitch. Get ready. Should we request a new object? Is this a taboo thing?"

"We do have janitorial devices on Alternia. We aren't heathens. That said, I would greatly appreciate if we could avoid uh... buckets." You're sure it was an oversight. It had to be right? You're sure all the teachers have gone through some kind of sensitivity training. He couldn't possibly have given you a mop on purpose, could he?

"You sure? I will totally make a stink about it for you. I will fly off the goddamn handle at this guy. I can 100% get away with it. I'll even lay on the southern drawl for the irony. You know he probably did it on purpose like it was some kind of joke to him just to see what you'd do." That's actually pretty nice of Dave to do. He's absolutely right that he could get away with it. You're about to agree to let him do it when an idea strikes you and a wicked grin takes over your face. No, if this guy did it on purpose then you're going to throw it back in his face a different way. "I like that evil smirk you have going on there. What's the plan?"

"Oh, I have an idea. It's a good one. Speed dating."

"Speed dating?" He looks more than a little confused and stops in the middle of the sidewalk to hear out your idea with his full attention.

"Speed dating. We get a bunch of different brooms and things like that. Maybe even a Swiffer. Oh gog, if we can find a wet jet, that too. This is going to be hilariously obscene. And the last date is the damn mop." He stares at you with his mouth agape for a moment, completely still before doubling over with laughter.

"I love it, yes, oh god. That is amazing. It's beautiful." He's still laughing as he straightens up and walks in a circle with his hands on his head. "I'm already getting ideas. This is going to be amazing. Karkat, you're a genius, a spiteful, spiteful genius. Do you want to be the date or should I? I know we agreed you could do most of the writing and I could do most of the filming, but this is your baby now. I'm not gonna tell you how to raise your child." You think for a second. You're not sure if you can hold a straight face through that, and Dave really would do the role well, but would the innuendo be lost if the date wasn't a troll?

"I don't know if I can do that. We'll have to think about it. Maybe we can draft one of our friends so you can still do the camera work." The both of you are practically buzzing all the way back to the dorm, bouncing different ideas off each other. You're just about back to your dorm when you see Gamzee. He's hanging around Sollux's door with his palm husk out, probably messaging him. You narrow your eyes at him and make a low growl as Dave unlocks the door. Gamzee looks up at you. His eyes are half-lidded and bloodshot. He doesn't growl back, just stares at you before turning his attention to the opening door beside him. You hear your door click open and follow Dave inside, but your glare doesn't leave the tall troll until you cross the threshold and close the door.

"What was that about?" Dave asks. For a minute you're confused before remembering that that sound is within his hearing range.

"My ex-moirail." You say with contempt.

"Ouch, that didn't exactly sound like you're on good terms."

You make your way over to your desk and get out a pad of paper to jot down your project ideas on. "No, we are not on good terms. We're on very shitty terms as a matter of fact."

"If you're on such awful terms, why is Sollux hanging out with him? Seems like a dick move if he's your best friend," Dave says as he immediately locates a notebook in the hazard zone that is his desk. Your expression saddens a bit at the mention of Sollux.

"Yeah, well, he's not hanging out with him so much as he's buying drugs from him." You like to tell yourself that their friendship hinges on getting fucked up.

"Like, drug drugs, or just like pot?" There's an edge of concern to his voice.

"Pot, but... it's a bit more complicated than that. His medications interact with it and he really shouldn't be mixing them," You sigh and fiddle with the notepad in your hands. "It's something we agree to disagree on. As for Gamzee, you could say his connection to the Makara's is more relevant than mine. His older brother and Gamzee's older brother have a moirallegiance, a really solid one I might add, so he should be on good terms with Gamzee. I'd be more irritated if he was snubbing him just for my sake."

Dave stops what he's doing to lean on the back of his chair and give the conversation more of his attention. "Interact how?"

You pick at your nail beds with your claws. This is something of a moral dilemma. In his own words it 'makes any weed into good weed'. What his mood stabilizer actually does is enhance the psychoactive properties. It's not like it makes him hallucinate in the colloquial sense. It just feels really good. He says it makes his head hazy so he doesn't have to think for a while. You can understand that, but he's on other medication too and playing chicken mixing all that shit together. It's hard to blame him though.

It would be really rude and misguided to bait Dave into asking Sollux about any of this. More so because you know the guy pities Dave but won't do anything about it. You'd be giving him false hope and mixed signals. Yet, you have been a bit concerned about Sollux lately. He's been overindulging. It's becoming a habit for him. It's not just a fun thing to do every now and then anymore. It's not social. He's doing it alone and a lot, usually at night. He did this once before, but the dry spell cut him off at the pass. This time there isn't much stopping him. No, no, Dave has only the loosest grasp of quadrants as far as you're aware despite how you ramble on about them when you talk about your writing or what you're reading. He wouldn't know what he was doing. It would be a disaster and only make matters worse.

"I really shouldn't be saying anything about that," you confess. "Mine and Gamzee's business doesn't involve it. We broke up because I gave and gave and got jack all back. Then he went and screwed over a good friend of mine. He was a real dick to her and I auspisticised way too late because I was still hoping to salvage my own relationship with him." You throw yourself under the bus to shift the focus away from Sollux. Dave seems to notice he's making you uncomfortable because he just nods his head like he's listening and turns back to his notebook.

"One more thing If you don't mind me asking. That growl, was it a general thing or did it mean something specific? Feel free to tell me to fuck right the hell off."

"Troll subharmonics and 'sounds' are kind of...tonal flavor to standard speech. Some things are more specific than others and it can be very situational. In this instance, I was conveying something like 'you know what you did and I still haven't forgiven you', but it didn't mean those words exactly. It's more of, it's like contextual or an expression maybe?" Dave does that nod again like he's listening and thinking over your words. He opens his mouth to speak, but seems to change his mind about what he's going to say because there is an extra beat there and a shift of the way he holds himself.

"Let's um, let's get back to the project. I want to write all this down before I forget. You have no idea how many times I'll tell myself oh sure yeah I'll remember that, and then all of five minutes later it's gone entirely." You nod and go over the general concept again and start making different lists of things you could incorporate. The atmosphere slowly shifts back to the hurried excitement it was earlier as you brainstorm. This film is going to be awful in the best of ways.

#  ==> Be Dave later: search the web.

'troll noises humans can't hear'.  
'troll threat response sound'.  
'troll threat response 20hz'.  
'troll low sound threat reflex'.  
'troll below human hearing range reflex'.  
'troll infrasound threat reflex'.

You're deep into a google frenzy. You've got eight tabs open and you only just came across the golden key search term. That sound Sollux made has been at the back of your mind for weeks. You've googled it a few times, but the results were difficult to navigate and you weren't really sure what you were looking for or at. You're still not sure, but your conversation with Karkat sparked your curiosity again. Sollux had said it was a reflex. Maybe you should see if they work the same as the kind Karkat was talking about. His was on command and conveyed a feeling or an idea versus a set meaning or thought. If it was reflexive did it work the same way? You look around even though you know you're alone. You open a new tab and click the search field. A pang of anxiety runs through you as you stare at the empty search field. Something inside you tells you that you shouldn't search this because you shouldn't feel this.

'troll infrasound reflex protect'

You close the tab before you can fully read the results, then close all the other tabs, and shut the lid of your laptop. Your pulse is beating a little too quick. You're all on edge like someone is watching you and they'll jump out any second to tell you they knew what you were just looking at, like a kid getting caught with porn. Your eyes go wide and you open your laptop back up to clear your browser history. You're just about to close the lid when pesterchum pings.

tentacleTherapist [T T] began pestering turntechGodhead [T G].

T T: Will you be joining Karkat this Saturday?

T G: what?

T T: Karkat, will you be coming down to the college with him when he visits Kanaya?

T G: wait, karkats monorail is kanaya?

T T: Moirail and yes, I was under the impression that you were aware of this. Apparently, that is not the case.

T G: i thought kanaya was your girlfriend or are you in one of those quadrant things?

T T: She is indeed my girlfriend, however, we have an understanding that both she and I have different interpersonal needs of the romantic inclination. For her, this means that while she considers me to be her Matesprite, our quadrant can and will blur into other quadrants occasionally. For me, it means that I have to understand that her filling her other quadrants does not mean she cares for me any less, but has different needs that she finds natural to have addressed by different individuals with different complimenting attributes.

T G: uh huh.

T G: those sure are some words there.

T T: You may play as ignorant as you'd like to my dear cousin, but I am more than certain that you are capable of grasping this simple concept.

T G: k so back to that thing you were saying before that giant block of text.

T G: karkat didnt say anything about going down there or well he did but it was only in reference to.

T G: nevermind.

T G: doesnt matter.

T G: youre gonna have to point out to kanaya that me and karkles arent exactly over here having tea parties and gossiping on the veranda.

T G: he probably has about as much of an idea as i do of whats going on.

T T: Duly noted. I will speak to her once she returns from class.

T T: It would be nice to finally see you in person after all this time.

T T: We could sit down and really dissect your deep seeded issues with intimacy.

T G: yeah.

T G: that would be pretty sweet.

T G: hey wait no.

T G: my brain and my deep seeded issues with intimacy are off the table.

T G: theyre chillin on the floor they are locked in the basement like junior while his dad is trying to score some sweet p t a ass.

T T: Interesting...

T G: goddamnit.

T T: As easy a target as that is, unfortunately, I must cut this short as I have a lot of work to do before tonight.

T G: what, did your gpa drop from a 4 point oh to a 3 point nine nine nine nine?

T T: Yes, that is precisely my motivation for clearing my evening schedule. I'm shaving my legs for the sheer thrill it brings me during group discussions on pre-Colombian art.

T G: weird choice of foreplay but aight.

tentacleTherapist [T T] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [T G].

You close pesterchum and stare at your desktop contemplating your next move. Even if you closed the window before, you still saw some of the search result headers. You bite at your lip and open your browser in incognito mode.

'quadrants'.

#  ==> Be Roxy.

tipsyGnostalgic [T G] began pestering timaeusTestified [T T].

T G: an it dosnt matter cuz she doesnt care.

T G: s nopt a real science it doesn count a being nothin.

T G: dick ive won shit.

T G: *dirk.

T G: im fckin haxxor wizard i coulda hackd nasa an she woulndt givea fuck.

T G: or mybe she would cuz her prechiious astro physics.

T G: she hates me.

T T: She doesn't hate you, Roxy. She has an idea of you in her head of what she thinks you should be, of what she wants you to be. It isn't you though. It never was and it never will be. Until she accepts that, she is only going to be continuously disappointed in you. It sucks, but a lot of this isn't in your hands.

T T: What number are you on?

T G: 1.

T T: Bottle?

T G: yeha.

T G: alls i got arm.

T G: *a m t.

T G: * * a t m.

T G: it empty.

T T: I think you're good for now anyway.

T T: You know you can always come here for the holidays. You don't have to go home. The couch is a pull-out.

T G: heart emoticon.

T G: nepta is back.

T G: she wantsa do manippurrrs.

T G: i think maybe i do that.

T T: Go have fun. You can message me later if you need to.

T G: t y heart emoticon.

tipsyGnostalgic [T G] ceased pestering timaeusTestified [T T].

#  ==> be Sollux.

You have the dumbest hidden talent. You are ridiculously good at pulling gravs. Kurlos has the top cut off a tropical grub punch jug, the bottom cut off a 2-liter faygo bottle, and a bong slide punched through the plastic bottle cap. It's majestic really. It might look easy, but there is a certain art to pulling the bottle up out of the water at just the right rate while you light the bowl to get that perfect opacity of smoke. You're sitting in the Makara's living room, which is in an attic level apartment, on a beat-up brown sofa with Gamzee on your left, Mituna on your right and Kurloz to Mituna's right lounging in a splay sac. The grav is on a coffee table that has seen better days. It has writing all over it and looks like it's been gouged with a knife two or twenty times. There are cigarette ashes embedded in places where the wood is cracked and a few cigarette burns on the dingey grey-green carpet. The tv that sits on top of a stand made from milk crates, is probably the nicest object in the room aside from the game console.

You pull another grav. This one is for your brother. You take the slide out and pop your thumb over the hole so the smoke can't escape before he gets to it. Mituna jumps up, and downs the whole thing in one swift go before popping his head back up and falling back into the sofa. You'd think he was being dramatic if you didn't know that his balance is just that terrible. Kurloz points to him, taps his lips, and then makes a motion like he's cocking a shotgun. He's asking Mituna to shotgun him. Highbloods and their high tolerances. The gold blood has no qualms about that and scampers over to his moirail's lap so he can exhale his hit into the other trolls mouth. It's made a bit difficult by the piercings that Kurloz has. They remind you of a corset piercing except the threads run like stitches through the snug rings instead of crossing. It's your turn next. You pull your own hit and it's a bit more opaque than you generally go for, so you take it in two goes, making sure to exhale into the spoof. You don't usually forget that, Mituna would be the primary suspect for that party foul. In this building, it probably isn't a big deal, but as a precaution, it's better for the place to smell like dryer sheets than weed. Gamzee is last. You can tell this hit is pretty beat so you top it off a bit before pulling it, and he thanks you before, like Mituna, wasting no time downing the smoke. You see the starts of little wisps leaking out his sniffnode and slap the spoof into his hands. Kurloz turns on Netflix and the four of you spend the next eternity flipping through titles trying to decide on something to watch.

It could have been slowly or suddenly, but at some point, everyone stopped talking while they were signing and you've only just become aware of that.  
"You guys need to talk while you sign or I'm never going to get any better at it. Only Kurloz gets a free pass on that," you say.

"My bad, my invertibrother."

[Starshine, load up The Fayghost Fountain] Kurloz signs.

"Your bong names are the worst." You wanted to be more creative with that, but you don't know the signs for what you'd like to say. Even that sentence you fucked up and Kurloz shows you how to properly emphasize your dislike for his naming conventions. Regardless you start prepping The Fayghost Fountain for round two while the others continue to scroll through titles.

It's a few minutes after they finally pick something that you start to feel less than ideal. You pulled your second hit pretty weak, but maybe you shouldn't have had it at all. You were really good a minute ago, but now you find yourself needing to lean forward a bit. It's a weird feeling, happens sometimes, but leaning forward seems to help. You're discreet about it and no one else seems to be the wiser. A few minutes later though you find that now you need to lean back a bit. It's almost nausea, but higher up. It's making you fidgety so you decide maybe you just need to stretch your legs and grab some water.

Going to the kitchen is a hazy expedition, but just standing up seems to have helped. You grab some water from the tap and lean against the counter while you sip at it. You tell yourself that you just overshot it a bit this time. You're fine. Totally. It's not your medication doing this. Gamzee makes his way lazily into view and leans against the kitchen archway.

"You good there, man? You up and motherfucking disappeared a while back." Have you really been gone that long? Nah, Gamzee's perception of time is near non-existent.

"Just getting some water." You say, holding up your glass to him before refilling it. He motions his head for you to follow him back out to the living room and so you do. As you're sitting down though, that feeling starts coming back. Like a tightness, a weird nausea up in your chest that creeps into your neck. You swallow thickly and reach for your drink again.

"You sure you good?" Gamzee asks again.

"Fucking wiggler, had too much didn't you?" Mituna teases you. He might be right though. Gamzee pulls you into a side hug and rubs his hand up and down over your arm.

"You just gotta chill. It's all good." He isn't letting go and you're not sure how you feel about this contact. For the moment it's somewhat reassuring. Hesitantly you let your head rest against the taller troll and wait to come back down. Mituna makes the noise you've come to recognize as him being confused in his thought process. It's a grumbly uncertain whine indicative of a mood shift or a conflict. Essentially an error message.

There's a hand ruffling your hair. "You'll be fine," he says in a much softer tone than a moment ago. Kurloz makes a heart with his hands and tilts his head to the side while smiling, his way of saying aw. They're right of course. A little time and some pizza has you in a better place soon enough. This is where you like to be. It's a hazy place where you don't have to think. For these few hours nothing in the outside world matters. You're relaxed and floaty. Your skin almost tingles in how much more aware of touch you are. Sound vibrates oddly in your ears, but you wouldn't be able to describe how it's different if someone asked you. Mituna's eyes are dim, but more so at the edges and you know that yours probably look much the same. Gamzee pushes you up from where you're leaning against him and gets up to turn the Nintendo on. He doesn't appear to be coming back, instead choosing to sit on the floor, so you lay down with your head against the armrest. The others look to be getting a game of Mario Kart going and you think they're going to leave you to your stupor until a touchpad is shoved into your hands. You completely wreck their shit on rainbow road.

Your palm husk buzzes. You fish it out of your pocket and when you see that it's Roxy, you tell the others that you're gonna sit this round out.

tipsyGnostalgic [T G] began trolling twinArmageddons [T A]

T G: solluuuuux.

T A: sup?

T G: u shuld com hang out with me.

T G: nep made me so purrdy.

T G: we had grks night and now im all dress up wit nowhere ta go.

T G: *girls.

T A: im so blitzed babe.

T A: im on the no fly list.

T G: yur with clown town jumction right?

T G: tell gamz u gonna get laid he will haul your ass over here so quick.

T A: eh heh heh heh he would.

T A: i'm not up for pailing tho, but sloppy makeouts may be on the table.

T A: ill see how i feel.

T G: shit well now you better get your ass ovr here.

You look up from your phone and blink your eyes a few times. "Who wants to drive me back to the dorms?" There is a delay in response until Kurloz pauses the game.

[Why? Are you still not feeling so good?] he signs.

"I'm fine. Real good, actually." He tilts his head at you in a questioning manner. Right, you didn't tell them why. "Roxy wants to see me." He nods real slow as a grin creeps over his face. Gamzee leans back in that creepily flexible way he does until he's looking at you upside down.

"You about to get your motherfucking lay on aren't you?" Gamzee says with a laugh that's too loud for you right now. He straightens up and looks over to his brother who gestures his head at Mituna and winks before pointing at Gamzee and giving him a short sharp nod, then tilting his head.  
Gamzee smiles slowly before coming back with a response. "Yeah, I'm good." He gets to his feet in one fluid motion, uncrossing his legs as he stands and turns to face you. "Come on, lover boy."

T A: ill be there in a few minutes.

T G: yesss ;)

twinArmageddons [T A] has ceased trolling tipsyGnostalgic [T G].

#  ==> Dave: family reunion.

The weekend has arrived.

You're sitting on the train with Karkat checking your phone again. It isn't terribly far, but you wish you brought a book or something. Karkat is nose deep in his own book and useless for conversation. You stare out the window counting the stops until the train finally lurches--

You're sitting on the train with Karkat checking your phone again. It isn't terribly far, but you wish you brought a book or something. Karkat is asleep and useless for conversation. You stare out the window counting the stops until the train finally--

You're sitting on the train alone checking your phone again. It isn't terribly far, but you wish you brought someone with you for conversation. You stare out the window, counting--

You're sitting on the train alone when it suddenly lurches. Your elbow slips off the armrest and sends you to the floor where you land on your knees with one hand on the seat in front of you. There is a glint of light in the corner of your vision and your eyes can't help but follow it. Tacky custom sneakers. The breaks are squealing. Black jeans. You taste iron. The glint of light off a polished metal surface. It momentarily blinds you. Cold steel against your skin forcing your gaze upward. It's bright. It hurts.

"Get up, little man."

You jolt awake and the alarmed troll next to you drops his book, losing his page in the process and crafting a string of swears that are lost to you because the only thing you can hear is the blood pounding in your ears. You lean forward, resting your forearms on your knees as the disorientation fades and the world comes back around you.

"Fucking hell, Dave. I was right at the good part." There's barely any bite to it. Like he's giving you an open to save face. You'll take it.

"Which part is that? The end?" you quip back at him.

"You wouldn't know a good book if I threw it at your head."

"How long was I out for?" You ask, shoving your shades up to rub your eyes.

"A while. I'll cherish the silence forever. We're just about here," Karkat says as he flips back and forth through his book to find his place and shove a bookmark in it. There's a ding and the name of the next station starts scrolling across the LED panel above the door. The train slowly comes to a gentle stop. When you step onto the platform Rose and Kanaya are there waiting for you. Rose has mentioned that Kanaya was a fashion major and you think they might be wearing her designs. Kanaya has on a skirt that looks like it wraps around from the side and almost hits the floor, with a shoulderless long sleeve turtleneck that has her sign embroidered on the one side where you would see the little polo dude or the alligator on those pricey shirts. Rose is dressed a bit more formally, or maybe it's the ruffles giving that impression. Her black dress isn't as long as Kanaya's skirt, but it's still fairly lengthy. It's shorter in the front, showing off boots that come halfway up her calves, and starting just passed the hips dark purple ruffled lace gives the look of the dress having tiers to it. Her sweater might be from a store though. It doesn't have the same hand made for her look that the dress does. Kanaya has some mad skills.

Karkat rushes past you and nearly knocks over his moirail with the sheer force of the hug he gives her. She smiles fondly and wraps her arms around him. He's much shorter than her and she can easily rest her head on his. When you get closer you can hear a shameless chorus of little chirps from the both of them.

The hug Rose gives you is much shorter and has significantly less inertia. Although that isn't to say it's impersonal. She's shorter than you thought she would be given how tall Roxy is. You maybe have two or three inches on her.

"It's good to finally see you, Dave."

"Yeah, same." You are eloquent as ever.

"Kanaya and Karkat are going to be spending some time alone, so I thought we might visit a favorite coffee shop of mine. It is a Starbucks knock off. All the flair of pseudo-intellectualism, but with food that is edible." Her eyes open a little wider when she mentions the food so as to emphasize the dig at the chain shop while her voice remains calm and even. It's just as you imagined she would talk.

"Sounds good. I'm hella hungry and that train ride knocked me out cold. Could use some of that sweet caffeine in my veins right about now." You say hello and goodbye to Kanaya before parting ways with her and Karkat. The cafe isn't too far, just a couple of blocks in a little downtown area much like the one by your own campus. The buildings here are a little taller and it reminds you faintly of Houston. You push the thought from your mind. She really wasn't kidding about it being a Starbucks knock off. It looks so much like the place that you're certain some kind of brand infringement is happening. The two of you make your way to the line and you stare up at the menu. It is a bit overwhelming. So, it might be surprising to some, but you've only ever been in Starbucks like twice or something. Bro had money, but not a whole lot of it, and some of his financial decisions were questionable. By questionable, you mean straight up reckless.

Sometimes it would be for one of his entrepreneurial endeavors. Other times it would be swords or weird "ironic" shit. You think maybe it was only semi-semi- ironic, or maybe not even ironic at all. It was fucking weird is what it was. But also, every once in a while you'd do something right in his eyes or show a skill he approved of and he'd run wild with it. Your DJ equipment was one of those things. He caught you touching his stuff when you were little. It scared the ever-loving shit out of you. You thought you were going to get the ass beating of a lifetime and then he up and gets you your own shit instead. Point being, you probably were not super poor, Bro's websites did alright and his DJing brought in decent cash, but he didn't balance shit all that well. Sometimes food was a problem. So Starbucks wasn't really a thing you spent the few dollars you had on.

You get a sandwich that Rose recommends and a regular coffee, black with two sugars-- like Sollux, your brain interjects. The thought surprises you and you stutter as you finish paying for your order. Rose gets some kind of danish and a fancier coffee. Or perhaps it isn't fancy? You're not sure. It might just be unfamiliar.

"Where would you like to sit?" she asks when your sandwich is ready. You scan the room before choosing a table in the back corner. It's cozy and private and you can see the entire room from where you sit with your back to the corner. "So, how are you adjusting to college life?"

"It's a bit different than the community version. It's different than a lot of things, but I can't complain. Karkat is a pretty good roommate. Don't get him started on his books or their complicated romance arcs though, or there goes your afternoon. But no, yeah, he's pretty chill." She nods and sips at her drink. "It's good seeing Dirk again too. I'm thinking it's no coincidence that he's nearby. Has he been here long?"

Rose shakes her head before she clarifies. "No, he has only been here since acquiring his current employment. Roxy and I were glad to see him stay somewhat near us this time."

"Yeah, gotta keep an eye on him. Self-sacrificing doofus." You say it with love and a shake of your head.

"Precisely."

Dirk really would do anything for you. You think maybe it's some kind of self-soothing thing for him too. He's antagonized Bro on more than one occasion to get his focus off of you. The bell on the shop door rings and you check to see who has entered.

"How are things going with your Mom?"

"Parr for the course." Rose scrunches her face a bit as if she tasted something sour. "You know how she loves to foster our development in only the healthiest ways know to modern psychology. Her fluctuations between attempts to pit us against each other, textbook gaslighting, and pure unfiltered neglect are fascinating. Although, she is trying this new spin on her backhanded compliments so that's refreshing at least. I have concerns about Roxy, however. Mother is always a little harder on her around the holidays. A primer for our inevitably tense and unnecessarily formal family dinners that end in both of them sauced."

"She's still insisting that computer science isn't real science, huh?" you ask.

"Of course. Flawed logic is difficult to dispell." The bell on the shop door rings again and you look again to see who is there before going back to your sandwich. Rose was right about it being good. "Would you keep an eye on her for me?"

"No, Rose, in fact, I think I'm going to paint my shades solid black so I never have to look at her again. Especially once I ragdoll down the stairs from the lack of eyesight and get real cozy with the brain damage."

"Thank you. I appreciate it." The bell dings again and you look up again. "Speaking of your eyewear. When is your appointment?"

"Tuesday? I think it's Tuesday." The bell dings and you look up again.

"Are you alright?" You pause mid-sip to make a hm? sound and lower your coffee. The question catches you off guard. "You seem jumpy. You check your surroundings every time someone walks in and mumble under your breath. Not to mention you've chosen to sit at the table with the best view to protection ratio." oh.

"I'm good." She clearly doesn't believe you for a second, but doesn't press any further. "So, Kanaya, she's a bombshell. Nice catch." Only the smoothest of segues for you.

"Yes, she is rather...radiant." There is something about that sentence that you aren't in on, some kind of joke Rose is enjoying. There is a long stretch of silence as you both sip at your coffee. She's doing that thing she does. The psychoanalytic magic she can work on you. She's waiting for you to say something. You don't know that you can though. Sure, some things you can joke about, you can make lite of things that bother you, it's the primary way you cope with that, to be honest, but if you were to actually let something out in a serious way... Could you stop yourself from spilling everything? Would one secret spill into a spiral of them? What would Rose think of you? She reaches her hand across the table to give your hand a squeeze before retracting it. Does she know? You didn't tell her about what happened when you first met up with Dirk, but did Dirk tell her? Or perhaps Dirk told Roxy. They talk a lot. Maybe Roxy told Rose. Jeez, does everyone know? "Dave, it's alright." Oh wow, have you been sitting like a statue staring off into space this whole time? You take a deep breath and try to relax your shoulders.

You need to change the subject. You can't be doing this now, here, in public. "So, you seem to have this quadrant thing on lock." No, bad, why, why would you let that come out of your mouth. You have immediate, instant regrets about saying that. "I mean, it must be weird sharing Kanaya with Karkat." That really wasn't much better. Way to go.

"At first maybe, but moirallegiance and matespriteship are different. They are even more distinct for Kanaya. As we speak she and Karkat are probably delving far deeper into personal topics than I would ever be comfortable with." It would appear that you manage not to completely fuck that up. "Is there a particular reason you are inquiring?" Ah, shit.

"What, no. I. It was just an observation. Can I not notice things from time to time?" That was too defensive. Oh no, there is that glint in her eye. That knowing fucking glint. She's going to say it. Here it comes.

"Interesting..." She checks the time. "Did you need anything for your dorm? We could stop at the supermarket before we meet back up with them. My treat."

"Nah, save your dollars. I'm so good. I've got stuff." Everyone has already done so much for you. You've been such a burden already.

"Are you sure? It really isn't any trouble. You don't need anything, toothpaste? Snacks? Apple juice?" That temptress.

"Well, if you're offering, it would be nice to get some of those individual AJ's." They are too pricey for you right now what with you not having any kind of cash flow.

When you meet up with Karkat at the train station you have two bags of groceries and necessities with you. Rose was absolutely insistent and the fact that you managed to keep it down to two is a miracle. You say your goodbyes when the train pulls up. Karkat lingers so long that the train starts moving before you can even take your seats. He looks a little sad to be going, but overall, he looks hella less stressed out. Within five minutes he's passed out against the window and you're left to your thoughts. Your thoughts are really getting crowded these days. You pull out your phone and hover your thumb over the pesterchum icon. It opens mostly by accident. A nervousness is spreading through you as you stare at your chum roll, as you stare at Dirk's chum handle. It's sweet relief when the decision is made for you as he goes offline.


	7. Sollux: consider getting your shit together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The smut is hyperlinked to "==> Sollux: Answer your Kismesis"
> 
> Both versions are identical at the beginning and the end. The one here just has all the nasty omitted.

#  ==> Be Dave.

Karkat and you got back too late last night so movie night got pushed over to today. Nobody seemed to mind much. What does anyone really have planned for Sunday night anyway besides last minute homework? Karkat actually was pretty down for changing movie night to Sunday instead of Saturday, which would be easy considering your little group has only gotten together once before. Last time you were subjected to some Alternian rom-com that you barely followed. Karkat and Nepeta seemed to really like it though. Roxy seemed pretty indifferent on it and Sollux just plain didn't show up.

This time it's Roxy's pick and you're glad you didn't even need to suggest that she pick a horror movie. When you get up to the common area on Roxy and Nepeta's floor you see that everyone except Sollux is here. You hold back the frown that threatens to make an appearance on your face and instead survey the snack situation. Looks like Roxy has the popcorn handled like the rebel she is. People kept setting off the fire alarm so they specifically banned microwave popcorn. How people were messing this up when there is a dedicated popcorn button you will never know. Next to her Karkat has a jug of some kind of fruit punch with a label you can't reed and a stack of cups that he is labeling with everyone's name. You notice there are only four cups.

"What's with the cups? Sollux a no-show again?" you ask as casually as possible. Karkat sighs and rolls his eyes, but Roxy is the one to respond first.

"I tried to get him out of his room, but he said he had a lot of work to do," She says raising her eyebrows and jutting her mouth to the side while looking away. She clearly wasn't satisfied with the answer she got. He had a similar excuse last time too. You nod your head a few times in acknowledgment.

"So who wants to see all the shit I smuggled out of the cafeteria?"

"Oh yes! Show us your catch!" Nepeta says as she leaps down from the couch and situates herself dead center in front of the coffee table. You start with flair by manifesting french fries from inside your coat and the goods only keep coming from there like handkerchiefs from your sleeve. Two cheeseburgers come out of your pockets, a snack bag full of cheese nips (Nepeta pounces on them immediately), a second bag of cheese nips for everyone else, oranges that you pull out one at a time dramatically for effect, cookies, and an apple that was for Sollux but you guess that's yours now. Roxy and Nepeta are laughing like they're at a magic show, but Karkat isn't impressed until you pull out an ice cream cone.

"What the hell? How?" He yells in pure bafflement. You hand it to him and shoot him some finger guns.

"Trade secret, Karkles."

"That's impressive." Roxy chimes in. "I'm gonna take a wild guess and say this is a Strider family secret?"

"You know it." You play it cool, but really it was something Dirk taught you to do for the bad times. When you were small enough to get away with it, he'd stuff your jacket full of food and tell you to start bawling your eyes out. No one was gonna stop someone carrying a screaming little kid out of a store. "So what movie do you have for us on this fine October evening?" You ask as you grab the apple and a seat on the couch.

"I couldn't decide between this absolute classic or British zombies."

"Oh man, that's a tough call." You lean over to better address Karkat, but are halted by the wide-eyed wonder on Nepeta's face. "Ha, of course Nepeta's down for Freddy."

"Oh man, I didn't even think of that. Nep, you gonna love this."

Nepeta does indeed 'love this'. Neither you nor Roxy make mention that it's Krueger, not Cougar and shoot Karkat a tandem glare when it looks like he might. When it's clear that Karkat is less than engrossed in the movie you decide it's a perfect time to let Nepeta know that there is an entirely unnecessary amount of sequels. You could have sold tickets to the look of dread on Karkat's face. Everyone is still pretty amped up when the credits are rolling so you all decide to pop in Shaun of the Dead too. Karkat seems to be less grumpy about this one and possibly, actually enjoying the movie by the time your halfway through it. He's slotted the two main characters firmly into a moirallegiance. You've seen this one a million times so you're only half paying attention. You wish Sollux had decided to come. He probably would have really liked this one.

#  ==> Be Sollux.

You think you may be depressed again. Well, more than you usually are at any rate. You've been trying to stave it off since shortly after the newness of the semester wore off. Today you bailed on another movie night despite it partly being your idea in the first place. It was going to be fun. You had even been looking forward to it. Then when the time came, the thought of being around everyone for an extended period was exhausting, and you knew you would just feel bad for not getting any work done. Yet, here you are hours later still not getting any work done. You probably should have gone.

You can barely focus on what you're doing for more than a few minutes at a time and your work is really suffering for it. Roxy had been on your ass about it, but after a certain point it stopped being motivational and made you want to work less on it. You can barely keep up with your classes. The only reason you're even going to your classes is that if you don't, you will definitely fall behind irreparably. You're tired all the time too, so fucking tired, mentally, physically, but you can't sleep. Sleep will only come if you help it along. You're becoming dependent again, you know you are, but you can't help yourself; it works. It eases the pressure and gives you a break from yourself, but sometimes you feel guilty about it.

You look up at your homework. The blinking cursor mocks you. This assignment is a mess. It's trash. You're trash. If it wasn't due soon you'd scrap it and start over. The idea of doing that is exhausting. Even if you did have the time, you probably wouldn't bother. It's good enough to pass. That is where the bar has been for the past two weeks. It's only getting lower. At this rate you'd consider doing anything, even binge playing video games, to be somewhat productive. You don't even know where the time goes.

Eh, well, maybe you know where some of it goes. It's not even that late yet, but you're already looking out the window. You just don't want to feel so shitty and run down. You don't want to feel. You stand up from your chair and your vision greys with dots. You hold still as you wait for it to pass. Way to go, Captor. You can't even stand up correctly. Carefully you make your way to the window and hang your legs over the sill. Red and blue psy-onics engulf you and carry you out and up to the roof. It's chilly now at night. You probably waited a bit longer than you ought have to bring in your bees, but they're snug in your room now. You pull your hood down and let the light wind brush through your hair. The solitude up here is nice. It's different than being cooped up in your room.

When you touch down to the roof you stumble and catch yourself against the AC unit. Your stomach is doing something weird. That can't be good. You're suddenly not sure if you're incredibly hungry or going to throw up. Can you even throw up right now? When was the last time you ate something? You stand still for a bit and take deep breaths until the feeling subsides, but the minute you start moving, the feeling comes back and has you latching onto the nearest object for some sense of stability. Shit, you think you may actually throw up. Is that what this feeling is? You're not sure what's happening and it's starting to make you nervous.

You should go back to your room. You can always come back up here after you eat something. You should really eat something. Maybe drink some water too. This is so pathetic. Your pan is such a piece of crap. You can't even take care of the most basic shit. And now you're not sure that you trust your psy-onics to not drop you if you try to go back through the window. You'll have to go down the fire escape. The lock you can handle. You psy-onics aren't completely shot. You take another deep breath and get ready to move.

When you push off the duct you get maybe a few feet before a feeling of dread sweeps over you and your stomach flips. The world is ripped from beneath your feet and passes through your line of sight as you crumple to the ground.

You think you may have been briefly unconscious when your eyes start to flutter open again. Footsteps are hurrying toward you. "Sollux!" Dave? It's Dave. You make a groan of recognition, but don't really move. You still feel like you might be sick and your head is foggy. You hear him skid to a stop, kicking up loose bits of roofing as he does so. He's kneeling next to you now with his hands held out like he isn't sure if he should touch you or not. "Are you alright? Shit, of course you aren't alright, you're on the ground. Come on, talk to me, man." he sounds worried. Slowly you push yourself up onto your elbows, staying that way for a moment with your head hanging. When Dave puts his hand on your shoulder his touch is hesitant at first, as if to give you plenty of time to react. You carefully turn just enough to take hold of his arm as he helps you sit up. His hand lingers on your back like he's afraid you might slump over. To be fair, you haven't let go of him yet either.

"What're you doing here?" you ask.

"I heard you fall," he says almost sheepishly like he'd been caught doing something questionable. "When you didn't get up I..." You realize after a moment that there isn't an end to that sentence. "What happened?"

"I think I fainted." You're actually fairly certain that that is exactly what has just occurred. "Should eat something. My blood sugar is probably a negative integer." It isn't a lie, hyperbole yes, though not a lie, but it does skirt the edge of being misleading. It sounds like a reasonable response, not like you did the worlds shittiest job of taking care of your baser needs like some freshly molted wiggler.

"Can you stand up?" he asks.

"Maybe?" you say with genuine uncertainty.

Dave helps pull you to your feet and was apparently ready to catch you because you don't land flat on your ass when you lose your balance to the black dots obscuring your vision. "Head rush," you say as he steadies you and loops your arm around his shoulders. He pulls you tight against his side and slowly helps you toward the fire escape. You're so close to him, too close. It hurts to be this close to him when this means so little.

"I got you," he says as you stumble and feel him take your weight. You don't start moving again until he's sure you've got your feet back under yourself. Things are coming back into focus just in time for you to attempt to use the ladder. Dave goes down first, and as you slowly make your way down you feel his hand bracing your back to make sure you don't fall. The warmth of his hand is like fire. You aren't sure how you convince all your limbs to get through the window in an orderly fashion, but you guess you did it because now you're standing in front of your door. "Do you have your key?" he asks.

You hold up your hand and let little waves of psi roll over your skin. "I don't need one." You touch the door handle and open it from the other side.

"Can anyone with psy-onics just stroll through any door they please like that?" Dave says with thinly veiled alarm.

"No, it's normally a line of sight thing." These doors aren't that hard to open, for you at least. The rectangular handle is mirrored on the other side and pushing it down will unlock the door from the inside. You're not actually using your psy-onics to unlock the door, just pushing the handle. The two of you make your way in and Dave helps you over to the bed. It's killing you how gentle he's being.

"Sit tight. You said you needed something with sugar?" he says as he makes his way over to the snack hoard. You start to pull a bottled water over with your psy-onics, but a pain runs through your head and you wind up dropping it. Good call on not flying. "I got it. Here." He hands you the water bottle along with a fruit roll up then makes his way over to the bathroom with a cup ramen. The sink runs and is followed shortly by the hum of the microwave. The sound is somewhat soothing somehow. You peel the gummy snack away from the paper and jam a chunk in your mouth like some kind of barbarian instead of savoring it like you normally would. It's gone in only a few bites that way. You chug down some water, but stop because it's too much too quickly for your stomach. You could probably do with more sweets, but you're not so keen on the whole food thing right now.

"Can you see if there is any grub punch left in the fridge? So much sugar in it," you say as you lean against the bunk post. It feels like there is a cup in your hand sooner than should have been possible. Maybe you zoned out there for a second. You take a few sips of the red sugary liquid. Your body is super thrilled with you finally making a decent decision like re-hydrating it or replenishing its fuel.

You hear the shuffle of cabinets opening and the sink running again before Dave comes back over this time with a white plastic box in hand. "You're bleeding," he says calmly as he tilts your head up and pushes back your bangs. You can't help the little sound that rumbles in your throat as he gently wipes away the streak of blood dripping down your forehead and collecting in your eyebrow. You're mortified for a split second before he makes a humming sound and smiles softly. You'll agonize over that horrifically pale exchange later. You're still a little too dazed for the moment. He moves away and comes back with a small sterilization square. It stings when it comes in contact with your skin. You hadn't noticed it before, but now you know exactly where the cut is up by your hairline.

"How bad is it?"

"It's just a scratch, no worries. Head wounds bleed a lot is all." He presses a folded over gauze pad to the cut and guides your hand to hold it in place. By the time he puts away the first aid kit the microwave beeps. "Where do you keep the forks?"

"There are chopsticks somewhere over there," you say, gesturing to the general area where Dave is standing.

"Really? Chopsticks with your ramen?"

"I like them. They come in pairs." You smile weakly and Dave shakes his head, silently laughing at you. He brings you the food and takes over holding the gauze to your head, peaking at it to make sure it's clotted enough before disposing of the bandage. You know you won't finish the ramen, but you'll try to get through as much as you can with small spaced out bites. He sits down next to you. He is so close that your knee is brushing his ever so slightly. Gog, this is so brutal. You keep telling yourself that you can just enjoy Dave's company and his friendship, but can you really?

"You okay?"

Ah, fuck he noticed. "It's nothing. Just not feeling so hot." fuck, fuck, fuck. Technically not a lie. You did just collapse. You do feel kind of awful. He doesn't need to know there is more than one reason you feel awful.

"You- you want me to stay here for a bit?" did he sound nervous? No, no, that's just you reading into things. You fainted. It's normal human concern.

"If you want to." You just can't bear to turn him away despite how much you disgust yourself for it. You continue trying to put some more ramen in your stomach while he flips through his phone.

"Check it out." You turn your head, disregarding the string of noodles connecting your mouth to the cup. He has a music player pulled up. You don't recognize the song he plays, but quickly realize it's his music.

"That one isn't on your sound cloud. " You catch yourself misspeaking as it happens, but can't stop the words in time. He gets the cockiest grin on his face.

"You listen to my music, huh? What happened to it being terrible?"

"I never claimed to have good taste."

"Just admit it. My jams are fresh as hell."

"They remind me of retro wave and cloud rap."

"Uh huh. So is that what you're always listening to in those fancy headphones of yours. That your home genre?"

"Not really. Sometimes. Your music is alright I guess."

"Mark the calendar. I think that was a compliment."

"Get bent."

He snickers and shoves you lightly with his shoulder. You shove him back. "If you ask nicely, maybe I'll send you some of the tracks I'm working on that aren't up yet."

You roll your eyes at him and slowly get to your feet. You're only a little light headed now. No more spots in your vision. You abandon the Ramen and go back over to the bed, this time opting to lie down. You have to sort of scoot around and behind Dave to do so which feels so unnecessarily strenuous. All of this has really worn you out. His music is still playing off his phone, but you recognize this song. It's one of your favorites of his, but you're not about to give him the satisfaction of that lest his ego explode.

He brushes back your bangs and mumbles "Good, still shut." It makes your heart flutter and you have to insist to yourself that it wasn't just an excuse to touch you. He kicks off his shoes and gets a bit more comfortable leaning against the headboard. For a while he just sits there with you, letting the playlist run on shuffle until at some point you fall asleep.

#  ==> Be Dave.

You are kind of freaking out right now and by kind of, you mean definitely hella freaking out. It's well past midnight and you just left Sollux's room after finding him collapsed on the roof, after taking care of him, after he fell asleep listening to your music with you. Music that, as it turns out, he genuinely likes.

You can always hear him up on the roof. It doesn't wake you from a dead sleep anymore, but if you're awake you'll hear his footsteps even when he's trying to be quiet. At some point, it even became comforting in a weird way. You were finishing up some tracks when you first heard the uneven footsteps. That worry that crept up your throat, you told yourself it was normal. You two are brose , good brose even. It's normal to worry about him. It was harder to justify the mounting panic that swept through you though when shuffled footsteps and a much louder thud were only followed by silence. However, you did justify it, right up until you actually saw him lying there on the ground. Even then you were afraid to touch him. You're always so afraid to touch him.

The phrase 'intricate rituals' comes to mind; thanks, Rose.

There were so many excuses to be close to him and, wow that's weird, that's creepy of you isn't it, but you liked it. You liked taking care of him. It felt good, so fucking good to make him feel better. This wasn't like patching up Dirk after a fight. This was something else. Your heart has been racing for what feels like hours. You think you might die.

This feeling isn't exactly foreign to you, but you've never felt it in quite this capacity before, and never for a guy. It's a bit terrifying for more than one reason. You sneak back into your room as quietly as possible, you do not need to wake up Karkat right now, and jam yourself into the corner of your bed.

turntechGodhead [T G] began pestering timaeusTestified [T T].

T G: are you awake?

T G: i need to talk to you.

T G: i really need to talk to you.

T G: im freaking out over here answer your phone.

T T: What's wrong?

T T: Are you okay?

T G: no im not fucking okay.

T G: im freaking the fuck out because...

T T: Dave?

T G: i...

T G: after he kicked you out.

T G: he picked me up by the collar and slammed me into the wall so hard it left a dent.

T G: he was on my case all the time about if.

T G: if i turned out like you.

T G: not that i am.

T G: not exactly.

T G: its complicated.

T T: I'm sorry.

T T: I hated leaving you with him.

T G: no this isnt about that.

T G: that wasnt your fault.

T G: i..

T G: fuck.

T G: god fucking damn it.

T T: What are you trying to tell me? Whatever it is, it's okay, you can tell me.

T G: i like him too much.

T G: what do i do?

T T: To clarify, are you freaking out because you have a crush on a guy possibly for the first time and it is sending you into a panic because we've literally had it beaten into us that that is not okay?

T G: wow, way to just lay it all out there dirk.

T G: have some damn tact why dont you.

T G: what if hes watching what if he finds out what if he hurts you to punish me.

T T: We'll be okay. Bro purposely isolated us back then. We have more people looking out for us now. We have Hal monitoring anything he can of Bro's too. Also, while I'd rather keep her out of it, we are closer to our aunt now. We have some options.

T T: Plus, who the hell hides out in this state. Nobody in their right mind would willingly come here. It's the worst. Have you seen how they drive here?

T G: ha, that is a fair point.

T G: do you really think that?

T G: the people thing i mean.

T T: I do.

T T: And I stand by what I said before, Sollux is crazy powerful.

T T: You are talking about Sollux, right?

T G: WHAT!

T G: how?

T G: who?

T T: Hahahaha.

T G: oh my god fuck off fuck right the hell off.

T G: how?

T T: Roxy is the most gossipy drunk I've ever met.

T T: It also was not difficult to figure out.

T T: You talk about him an awful lot.

T G: no way i do not.

T T: Scroll up if you don't believe me. Ctrl+F his name. How many hits did you get?

T G: a s d f g h j k l ; . 

T T: Told you.

T T: Are you doing any better now?

T G: yeah i guess but i still dont know what to do.

T T: Talk to him maybe?

T T: I hear communicating with people is a fairly efficient means of conveying things of this nature.

T G: dot dot dot.

T T: Okay, okay, real advice time. Gonna lay some older brother wisdom on you. Get ready because this is some quality stuff.

T T: Talk to him.

T G: youre enjoying this arent you.

T T: A little bit.

T T: If you won't talk to him, you could try talking to Roxy first. She is dating him after all. I'm assuming, of course, that you have a different quadrant in mind, right?

T G: no shit im not about to steal my cousins man, fuck that is a weird thing to say why did i say that.

T G: i could have backspaced that couldnt i, and yet there i was hitting enter anyway.

T T: It's not the red one, is it? They flip into that one a lot from what I hear. That could get complicated.

T G: no i dont really feel that way about anyone.

T G: like its not a thing i have.

T G: i think.

T G: and i think bro knew something was off he was always asking creepy shit about when i was gonna become a man.

T T: You're not "off", Dave.

T G: you know what i mean.

T G: man this is a regular feelings jam shits heavy as hell up in here.

T G: i think im good, i think i have thoroughly humiliated myself enough for tonight, maybe even met my quota for the year but who knows im real good at it, a regular pro at inserting my foot directly into my mouth like a goddamn sword swallower.

T T: It's fine, really, and I promise not a word to Roxy.

T G: you better not.

T G: my collection of awful ringtones is as vast as it is shameful and hal would jump at the chance to fuck with you.

T G: im gonna try getting some shut eye.

T G: sorry for keeping you up you probably have work too, shit my bad.

T T: No, I'm off tomorrow, so don't worry about it.

T T: Go get some rest.

T G: yeah ok.

T G: night.

T T: G'night.

turntechGodhead [T G] ceased pestering timaeusTestified [T T].

#  ==> Sollux: Wake up.

You're a tad confused when you wake up significantly closer to the ground than you generally do. It's weird that you would sleep on the bottom bunk. You rub at your eyes and look around for your glasses, finally spotting them on your desk next to a half-eaten container of Ramen. The events of the previous night all come back in a flash as you are suddenly much much more awake than you were a moment ago. "Holy shit." You flop back down on the bed and stare up at the blurry slats above you. You play back everything in your mind in gross detail. It was one pile and a handful of chirps short of the stuff out of those trashy books Karkat reads in public.

Your eyes go wide. No, no it wasn't. You _DID_ chirp at him. You chirped at him and he smiled and he made a sound back at you. It was kind of like a laugh, but not a laugh. It wasn't mocking you. It was like...like maybe...

You're not sure if you want to let yourself open that door. You know you won't be able to shut it again if you do. Would you have these doubts if he were a troll? Probably not. With a sigh, you throw your legs over the side of your bed and haul yourself up and out. You put on your glasses and find out that you don't have to rush to get ready for class. Actually, you have time to use the ablution trap _AND_ eat. You turn off your alarm so it doesn't go off now that you're already up and start getting ready. The water stings against the cut on your forehead, but the pain is eclipsed by the memory of the way he carefully tilted your head back and brushed aside your hair. The callouses on his hands were rough, but his touch was so soft. You wish you knew what that sound he made meant. Did he know what yours meant? Did he know how safe you felt? Your chest aches. You grit your teeth and finish washing up.

You throw on a black hoodie with your sign on it and a pair of grey jeans. You wonder if he really will send you his music. It kind of sounded like he was going to send you some stuff he was still working on. Did he want your opinion on it? You let the smallest of smiles cross your face. You stand there and chew your lip, thinking of all the things he said last night, all the things he has said before like that, the excited way he nudges your arm when a good part in a movie is coming up, the way you can't tell if he's actually decent at smash bros or just good at button mashing, the way he won't tell you if he's decent at smash bros or just button mashing, the stupid way he drops all the b's in probably, the way he can't say y'all without his accent coming out in full force. Somewhere along that stream of thoughts you stopped thinking about evidence he might return your feelings and just started thinking about him. You throw back your pills with water that's either from last night or two days ago and head out the door feeling timidly optimistic about this. It's a feeling made of glass, but you let yourself feel it all the same.

Then just like that, there are spider cracks running all through it as you catch Dave coming out of his room. You watch him freeze at the sight of you and run back inside. He avoided you. He doesn't want to see you. He figured it out and wants nothing to do with you. No, that couldn't be. He just forgot something. He probably didn't even see you. Those shades just made it seem like he was looking right at you. Now you're biting your lip for a different reason as you make your way to the cafeteria, still trying to hold onto that good feeling that was within arms reach a moment ago.

#  ==> Dave: Panic.

You freeze when you look up and see him. The look on his face makes your heart stop. He's smiling. It's breathtakingly genuine and you're the only one around to see it. You whip back around and close the door, before falling back against it. Your heart is beating so fast like it's trying to catch up for the moment of time it stood still. You've never been more thankful for lollygagging both so that 1. you could witness that, and 2. so that Karkat isn't here to see you flustered out of your head. Oh man, why is this suddenly so much harder? Everything was just fine until you pulled your head out of the sand and wrenched open the lid to Pandora's box. How on earth are you gonna do this?

Well, you sure as shit aren't going to grab a coffee from the cafeteria before class now. Sollux doesn't have class for another half hour so that's probably where he's-- oh god, you have his schedule memorized. Your eyes go wide and you stare into space at this revelation. This isn't like that crush you had on Jade when you were kids. That did not feel like this. This is overwhelming. You know Dirk said to just talk to him, but how the hell are you supposed to do that now? You saw him candidly smile and it has sent you into disarray. How are you even supposed to think and speak at the same time in his general direction now?

You slide down the door and hold your head in your hands. It's not like your concerns from before are gone either. What if Bro is watching you? What if he finds out about this? What if he goes after Sollux, or Dirk, or even Roxy? Dirk seems to think Sollux can handle himself, but he didn't seem to be feeling too well the other night. You saw the way his psy-onics cut out and the way it looked like he was heading toward the fire escape. He never takes the fire escape. He didn't think he'd make it. He thought he'd fall. Something is wrong with him. You don't know in what way exactly, but you want to. As if your mind wasn't in enough places, a new thought occurs. What if he doesn't want you to know? What if he doesn't feel the same way about you? You hadn't even thought about that yet. You were too busy considering everything else to consider that even if you did talk to him, he might reject you.

You're starting to make that little gasping sound again, so you hold your breath. You reset and try breathing again. Just like before. Just like Sollux told you. It worked before and works again. You reign yourself in before you can spiral out of control. You're still jittery with worry so you get to your feet and gracelessly clamor to the little fridge Karkat has that he lets you use. He's cool like that. You sit on the edge of your bed with an apple juice and try to steel yourself. Your face is blank long-before you truly are composed again. Years of practice.

You get to class late and Karkat is glaring daggers at you because you have the storyboard and he's been stuck sitting there for 15 minutes like an unprepared idiot.

"Where the fuck were you? You were 'almost ready' when I left" He loudly whispers at you. Most people might think that that was his inside voice, but they'd be wrong.

Oh shit, you didn't think of an excuse. "Had to take a shit." Flawless. You straight-faced it perfectly. His eyelids do that fluttery thing like he can't believe what he's just heard while his eyebrows nearly disappear into the forest that is his hair.

"I cannot stress enough how much I did not need to know that." He takes a breath. "Anyway, you have the storyboard at least, right?"

"Of course I do," You say as you reach over to rifle through your bag. You dig around for an extra six seconds before coming back up and clapping your hands together. "So, funny story." He stares at you silently. It's the Karkat equivalent of the tide disappearing way the fuck back into the ocean. "I'll be right back--"

"Oh no, you don't! You sit your ass right the back down!" He throws his hands up in the air and mumble-shouts something on the way out of the classroom. You're actually kind of relieved. You really aren't feelin' accidentally running into Sollux right now. The second class lets out your phone immediately pings.

timaeusTestified [T T] began pestering turntechGodhead [T G].

T T: Are you all set?

T G: for?

T T: Your eye appointment.

T G: thats tomorrow.

T T: It's today. I'm right around the corner.

T G: tell me you are not messaging me while driving.

T T: No, of course I'm not. Hal is.

T G: wait am i talking to hal or dirk.

T T: You can't tell the difference between your own brother and a machine?

T T: Don't be a dick, Hal, and get out of my color.

T G: watch the road dirk.

T G: hal isnt my appointment on tuesday?

T T: Incorrect.

T G: shit well ok i guess.

T G: ill see you guys in a few.

T G: the main entrance right.

T T: Yeah, that works.

timaeusTestified [T T] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [T G].

You've never been to an optometrist and you've decided you were not missing out on anything. This guy is stupid fascinated by your eyes to the point of irritation, your irritation. However he seems to know Dirk, and Dirk has assured you that he's alright and everything he's doing is normal.

"Dave, you need the drops," Dirk says flatly.

"I don't want the drops."

"You need to do the drops."

"I don't NEED to do anything."

"You don't need them every time, but this is the first appointment. Quit being stubborn and let him put in the drops."

You do not like the drops. As if everything wasn't bright enough without your shades on, the eyedrops will dilate your pupils and they're gonna be stuck that way for a while. On top of that, the doctor doesn't like your shades one bit even if they did belong to Ben Stiller. He's assured you though that the style is very popular and that you can get a pair just like them, but with prescription lenses in them. You're not pleased about this whole arrangement, but you agree and he starts the exam.

Your opinion of the man changes on a dime once he brings down that horrifying mask and starts switching around all the lenses. It's like going HD. Why did no one tell you you've been walking around with vision like a 480p youtube video. You're going to have to reevaluate your entire photography portfolio. Your shots are going to be so much better now that you can actually see them. You're going to take a million pictures as soon as you get the chance. Maybe Sollux would let you take pictures of his psy-onics. Oh, bad thought, bad thought. You grit your teeth and push it away. You aren't ready to deal with that yet and certainly not here.

Dirk says he's going to check with his insurance company to see if they'll cover a second pair so you can have a non-tinted pair to read with when you're inside. You don't think it's really that big of a deal as long as you have the tinted pair. You've gotten this far without them. Dirk thinks otherwise though and is insistent, so you go along with it. They are special lenses so it will take some time to get here, but you've been assured it won't take too long. You have to admit they do sound kind of cool and they do look just like your old ones. The lenses are supposed to get darker when you're outside, but still stay tinted when you're inside. The doctor said a bunch of other technical things about your photosensitivity improving blah blah light variance blah blah less eye strain, but you weren't really paying attention. You got the gist of it. Until then you can still wear your shades.

When you get back to your room without running into Sollux you breathe a sigh of relief that is quickly followed by a pang of sadness. It's how a lot of the rest of your week goes. It doesn't help that your body has it ingrained in it to associate this kind of paranoid hypervigilant adrenaline with Bro. You're actually not sure which is causing what. Is it your fear of him watching you and seeing you with Sollux that's making you so on edge? Or is the idea of confronting Sollux putting you on edge and letting anything and everything else latch onto it? You aren't sure what to do, so you do nothing. You try to focus on your project. You only have this week and the coming weekend to film before you have to start editing. Karkat has been harping you about it and you can't really call him out on it because he's right. That and he did all the footwork to get someone to play the troll part.

When the optometrist called to let you know your new shades were ready, you were pretty surprised. You thought he had meant it would take an extra week to get special lenses, not an extra day. Maybe you just weren't paying attention. You probably could have been doing more of that. Either way, it gave you something to bitch about and you were pretty grateful for that. They're actually pretty amazing. You can see better than you've ever seen before. Everything is more vivid too, and the contrast is a vast improvement. You can't really complain about the glasses themselves, so instead, you complain about the brightness and the headaches that you've been told will go away soon enough.

#  [==> Sollux: Answer your Kismesis](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17748191)

"Sollux, open this fucking door!"

There are two loud thumps as Roxy bangs on the wood. You're sitting on the floor by your bed with your knees brought up near your chest. You don't want to deal with this. You're depressed, you're drowning in homework, Dave won't so much as look at you anymore, nothing is even remotely enjoyable, and you're tired as fuck. You are completely out of shits to give. "Leave me alone!" you shout back.

"I swear to hell! Open. This. Door." There's a loud bang with each word of the command.

"Go. Away." You say, mocking her cadence.

"You can't just hole up in your room every time something bothers you!" You don't respond this time. "Don't you fucking ignore me!" It's not just 'something' it's everything. It's everything stacked on top of everything else. If everyone is trying to scale a mountain, they may have different mountains, but they've got gear. You, however, not only do you not have gear, but your mountain is made of loose dirt and leaves so even if you did have gear you would still slide right back to the bottom. "Sollux!" Alright, that's it. She wants in? Fine. Fucking, fine. What do you care if she's yelling at you from inside or outside of your room? You stand up, march over to the door, and roughly wing it open.

"What the fuck do you--" You can't get the words out before she's pushing you back, wedging herself into your room before you can close the door on her, but she doesn't stop there and in a hot second you find yourself up against the wall. The door clicks shut.

"The hell is wrong with you?" She is pissed. Her brows are drawn down and tight and there are tear tracks down her face, leading to her set jaw, and a mouth pinched smaller than usual. The fists balled in your shirt may also be indicative of this. She's been drinking too, you can smell it on her breath, but you're really not one to talk, because you're not exactly sober right now either.

"Do you want that list itemized or in chronological order?"

"That is not what I meant and you know it, smartass," she says, letting go of your collar so she can angrily point at you. However, she remains in close proximity, keeping you pinned where she put you. You narrow your eyes at her as they glow brighter.

"Oh? And just what did you mean? What could you possibly have meant beside 'why are you so fucked in the head?' Why is your thinksponge so gogdamn broken?' hm? Tell me, Roxy. Just what did you mean?" Your voice gets louder as you go until you're talking just as loudly as she was if not louder.

"I meant why are you being such a dumbass!"

"I'm being a dumbass?" you ask incredulously.

"I'm glad you agree," she comes back with, ignoring the actual meaning behind your words. 

"No, fuck you. You can't just come in here and insult me and and--" You try to advance on her, but she shoves you back to the wall with her hands pinning your shoulders and she growls at you. You've heard humans try to make troll sounds before and it's mostly an absolute disaster. The pitches are all off, too high or low, carrying the wrong implications because it's like synthesized speech, but that is not what is happening here. Roxy really did just growl at you albeit with an accent.

"I can and you bet your ass I will. You've been moping around all week. I haven't heard a word out of you since I tried to get you to come hang out with us, which by the way, Dave was disappointed about. And don't act like you don't give a damn, I'm not stupid. You need to do something! Talk to someone! Go outside! Fuck, I'll take you out to get plastered. Just do something! I'm not gonna let you lock yourself away like this!" You stare at her completely dumbfounded as your brain tries to catch up with the different feelings going through you that are mostly centered around having your kismesis growl at you with such fervor and tear you a new one. Just when her expression begins to falter from your sudden silence, you pull her forward, your hand on the back of her neck, and you kiss her hard and desperate. She's only briefly surprised before she starts kissing you back in equal amounts of not gentle. "You're such an idiot." She says against your neck before biting the tender spot where it meets your collar.

"And yet this is where you choose to place your affections." Her teeth won't break your skin, but the effort is appreciated. One of her hands tangles itself in your hair and she pulls your head to the side. "Are you marking up my neck?" you hiss at her. She moves to a different spot and starts again, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin. You can't decide whether to press into it or pull away and wind up doing a bit of both beneath her.

"Yep. You get to walk around with a neck full of 'my kismesis had to kick my ass in gear' marks." Fuck, that's kind of hot. The way she says it right next to your ear is also pretty hot. You try to turn the tables and flip her, pin her against the wall, but she's not having any of that. You only manage to push maybe a foot away before your back meets the brick again. A leg plants itself firmly between yours, one hand on your upper arm, another on your jaw; you are very much pinned. She looks directly into your eyes and it is searing. Then she kisses you again. You pull her closer, as flush to you as you can, the words 'do not maul' flashing in your mind as you're wary not to grab her too hard with the claws you now keep filed down dangerously blunt just in case. "You're gonna get your shit together, Sollux," she says against your lips. You try to get back to kissing her, but she pulls her head back. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm gonna get my shit together." She lets you kiss her.

"Why?" She's pressing up against you in a way that is wonderfully intimidating.

"Cause I'm a disaster," you say.

"Wrong answer." She bites your lip. You wish you could bite her back.

"Because you said so."

She shakes her head. "Still wrong." She pulls your hair to expose your neck and you make a noise of submission. "Because you're better than this," she says her lips feather light against your voicebox. She lets you go all at once and the sudden lack of contact makes you shiver. You run your fingers through your hair as you try to reel yourself back in a bit. Roxy is standing there, hip cocked, arms crossed, eyeing you up and down. A lot of the down actually. Roxy is staring at your crotch, isn't she? You look down and sure enough, there is some wriggling happening in your pants. Your bulge hasn't come out to party, but it's peaking out to see what all the fuss is about. She has the most indecent smirk on her face.

"Oh shove it," you say as you flip her off with both hands. She giggles as she comes back over and tugs you forward by your shirt (this poor shirt, the collar is never going to be the same), walking backward until reaching the bed where she turns you both around so she can shove you down onto it. "I said shove it, not me," you come back with, but there isn't a whole lot of bite to it. She climbs on top of you and bends down to give you a kiss that you eagerly return.

"So, you uh, gonna bring that little guy out to play orrr..." The hands you have on her hips tense up. You can see her noticing your unease.

"I, I'm keeping my clothes on, but ...you don't have to ...entirely ...if that's what you want." You run your nails gently down her legs, feeling the transition from the fabric of her skirt to bare skin and then just grazing the tops of those ridiculously tall socks you think look great on her before going back up again. You feel a bit guilty about all this. She wants to be with you so badly. She sighs and runs her fingers through your hair and over your horns.

"What does that mean? Are we just gonna make out till we're all hot and bothered and then I leave to go think of you in the shower again?"

"Wait are you thinking of me in the shower or thinking of me while you're in the shower because those are two diff-- ow hey." She gives you a good swat to the arm and you can't keep a straight face anymore. Neither can she. "Come'ere," You say, scooching backward so your legs aren't hanging over the edge so much and she can lie down next to you. Or on top of you as seems to be the case. She really likes to do that and you find it endearing. "I think I have a compromise," you say as you snake your hands up her sides and under her shirt. Her skin is so soft. If you weren't so careful, or if you didn't file down your claws so much, it would just shred to ribbons. She trusts you so much. She's so patient with your bullshit. She's so eager to have you, but she's waiting still because you need her to. You undo the little clasp that everyone in the movies seems to have issues with and pull the combined bundle of clothes up over her head before chucking it somewhere to your right.

"Are you not gonna tell me?" She grabs your hands that were resting on her waist and pins them above your head. She's staring you down, and gog those pink eyes.

"Make me." You can hear the breath she takes in through her nose as she tilts her head and flares her eyes. How neither of you has yet to break any teeth with the force of your kisses you will never know.

"Tell me." She bites at your lip. Her fingers are in your hair, and yours are drawing red lines over her back. "Tell me." Her hand is on your side, running up your shirt. "Tell me, Sollux." You pull her close and rock your hips up against hers and the enthusiastic response you get back is enough to have your bulge squirming out far enough to twist around itself like it's one. It has your breath hitching against her neck and that only seems to drive her wilder. Honestly, she could probably get you off this way, but this is about her, not you. You continue on for as long as you can stand it before you say her name.

"Roxy." You press a hand to her side. She pauses her efforts to grind you into the mattress and takes to placing gentle kisses against the marks she's left on your neck. You run the pads of your fingers over the exposed skin of her back, down toward the base of her spine where you know it makes her shiver. "Don't leave this time." She picks her head up to look at you. She's blurry. Your glasses were knocked off at some point.

"What do you mean?" she asks as she reaches for something above and to the right of you and then sets the red and blue object out of harm's way.

"I need it to be different and I've never done this with anyone." You move to sit up and she backs off of you to rest on her heels. You grab the closest blanket and bunch it up between you and the wall behind you before leaning back against it and taking Roxy with you. You pull her so that she's situated between your legs with her back to you. She's still breathing hard and the thought that she'll be breathing harder, against you, it makes a spark run down your back. You wrap your arms around her and bury your face in her hair. You love the way she smells. You kiss her neck. "Don't leave this time when you think about me."

* * *

Small tremors are still running through the both of you as you fall back together to lie on the bed. Everything is quiet except for the sound of you and her panting. She's on top of you again, but now she's facing you, laying astride one leg off to your side, resting her head against your chest. She runs her hand up your side and down your arm. With limited coordination, you run your fingers lazily through her hair. You hadn't intended to go that far.

"You okay?"

"Hm?" Your thinksponge isn't back online yet.

"You said you hadn't meant to go that far."

You must have said that out loud instead of in your head. You inhale deeply and let it out as you give her a squeeze of reassurance. "Yeah, I'm okay." You let your eyes fall shut. "Can you keep talking though?"

"Jeez, I don't know. Can I?" she laughs gently against you and you laugh along with her. "That was really good. Worth the wait." She sits up a bit and rests her chin on her hands so she can look at you. You open your eyes just enough to see her. Her hair is a disaster, She's flushed all the way to her shoulders, and there is the most dazed expression on her face. She's beautiful. "Bonus points for figuring out another one of your kinks." She raises her eyebrows suggestively at you with a grin of triumph oh her face.

"Don't get cocky just because you won this time. You seemed pretty into it yourself. No one has ever said anything that perverse to me." You waggle your eyebrows right back at her equally as suggestive. She tilts her head curiously and you immediately realize your error.

"Oh? And just what did I win?"

"Nothing." You reply too quickly. She pushes herself higher up to loom over you.

"No, no, you said I won something. What did I win?"

You throw your arm over your eyes and chuckle through a smirk. "You're my Kismesis, Roxy. What do you think you won?" Not that you really ever were in the lead. You were pretty quick to submit, although she didn't have you begging until the end. You cover your face with your hands as you turn more yellow than you already are. "I know you can hear those mid-range sounds just fine." You slide your hands up into your hair before letting them fall aside. She has the widest close-mouth smile plastered on her face like she might be holding in a laugh. "Oh, shut up." She was.

"I didn't say anything," she musters through her laughter as she sits up. "Those little clicks and stuff you make are hot." You reach back and throw a pillow at her. She throws it right back at you. Ah right, you are gonna need to wash that pillowcase now. You prop yourself up on your elbows and survey the damage while you float a water bottle over from your desk for yourself and an unopened one from beside the fridge for Roxy. Your mouth is crazy dry and her's probably is too. This is a mess. The sheets are a mess. Roxy is a mess. You're a mess.

"You may want to rinse off." You suggest. Roxy looks around and then down at her self while nodding her head.

"Yeah, yeah that might be a good idea."

You move to sit up and swing your legs over the side. "Go first, ill get rid of this and find something for you to wear." She comes to sit next to you and wraps an arm around you.

"Really though, are you okay? I didn't mean to push you into uhh...participating."

You lay your head on her shoulder. "You didn't. I got kind of carried away, but you would have stopped if I had asked." She did actually. You didn't even have to ask. She backed off when you got uncomfortable. You take her hand in yours and thread your fingers together. You should say this now before you lose your nerve. "But if...if I'm ever too quiet," She brushes her hand over your arm. "...check in." it probably would have been worthwhile to mention that before, but you were a bit distracted.

"That's cool. I can do that." She gives your hand a squeeze and thankfully doesn't make a big deal about it.

"Cool." You let go of her hand and to stand up only to grimace as genetic material drips down your leg.

"Forget about something there, Sol?" she snickers and gives your arm a little pat. "Been there before." She winks at you and makes her way over to the ablution block. Yeah, you need to wash these jeans immediately.

When you get out of the ablution trap Roxy is still in your room. You're not sure why you expected her not to be. She found your sheets and made the bed, mostly anyway. She's wearing the pants you left out for her but doesn't have a shirt on yet, just her bra. She's looking in the mirror at all the marks you left on her.

"What's the damage?" You say as you come up behind her, glad to see that the marks on her back are just faint pink lines.

"Don't worry, you didn't break skin." Seemingly satisfied she throws on a T-shirt that isn't the one you left out for her. It's one with your sign on it. Definitely not a very spades thing to do, but endearing all the same. She turns around and you think she's about to loop her arms around your neck, but then she tugs your collar back to get a look at her handiwork. "But I broke yours." This time she does let her arms hang around your neck while she looks at you with a raised eyebrow and a smug smirk on her face.

"I noticed," you say with a smile as you tug her close and let your arms hang around her waist. She grabs your chin and tilts your head side to side.

"I do good work," she remarks about the collection of hickies a k a, "get your ass in gear marks" she gave you. You hum in response before stealing a quick kiss.

"I guess I better get to the laundry. Then maybe get some food."

"Good. I think I might come with." She grabs a laundry pod and smacks your ass on your way out the door. You roll your eyes and shake your head at her. Well, that's certainly one way to get you out of your room.


	8. Migraine City

#  ==> Be Roxy.

You're sitting on top of one of the tables in the laundry room while Sollux moves his stuff from the washer to the dryer. He seems a lot better now that you "motivated" him to leave his room and got him started on being productive. He always has trouble with that first step but seems to do okay once he gets moving again, and you are dying for him to get back to trying to 1-UP you. It's ridiculously motivating. Having such a passionate rivalry is thrilling like nothing else could be. You don't want him to fail, you just want to beat him. You want him to take second place to you and then come back and dethrone you so you can turn around and do the same to him. You want to be better than everyone else with him. You want people to talk about you and him on forums like he's your arch nemesis. You want him to stare at his projects for hours only for you to come over and solve it in two seconds just to piss him off, while you pretend like you didn't just spend the last hour and a half furiously digging through stack overflow. But he needs to be on his game for that. If he's off, you're off. You can't counter if he doesn't strike.

You let your mind idle while you watch him, taking in the way he moves, the way his clothes fall on his frame, the nail marks on the back of his neck that disappear under his shirt. You hadn't expected to like leaving your mark on him as much as you do. Maybe it's because he likes it too. A ghost of your touch on his skin. He heals quick, trolls do that at varying rates. They're never there for long, but while they are, there is a little possessive part of you that sees them and says "mine". He's so careful with you. It's sweet, but you wish he'd be a bit more rough. The marks he left on you are already fading. However, it is progress. If his nails hadn't been filed down so much, the way he grabbed you, desperate and needy, the thought of the marks it would have left leaves you feeling warm.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" he says, breaking the cozy silence of the liminal space you were sharing.

"Shoot."

"You said something earlier about Dave. What exactly did you mean by it?" He keeps moving stuff between the machines, although more carefully than before like it's a distraction to keep from looking at you. You think back to this afternoon. You were talking about Sunday, about Dave being disappointed that Sollux hadn't come to movie night, and about how you knew he "gave a damn".

"About movie night? He wasn't too thrilled about your being a double no-show."

"That was it?" He sounds skeptical but willing to drop it if you say yes.

"Welllll," you drag the word out as you cross your arms and quickly sway side to side in debate. With a sigh, you give in. "Not exactly. I mean, is there like...are you guys tiptoeing around something? Is there something I should know about?" Oh, that came out wrong. He jerks upright and turns to face you.

"No! I wouldn't, it isn't like that, I swear!" it comes out fast and laced with worry. You hop off the table and grab him by his upper arms. You're not about to undo all the effort he just went through picking himself up.

"Augh, that's not what I meant." You feel him ease under your hands and his expression moves to something more pensive.

"You mean a different quadrant."

"Yeah."

"That you should know about because he's your cousin."

"You got it."

"Would that be weird for you?"

"nmmmmm," you make a so-so gesture with your hand and scrunch up one side of your face. "Kind of, but not really? If you were into him in a flushed way maybe, but I don't see an issue since it's pale." You're alluding to the vacillation neither of you likes to talk about.

"Wait, how do you know that? Please tell me I'm not that painfully transparent."

"Babe," You say as you let go of him to shift your weight to one leg and park your hand on your hip. You give him a 'what the heck' gesture with your other hand. "Oh gee Roxy, you're right, I totally don't dislike Dave- **OH BY THE WAY YOU CHILL WITH ME HAVING A MOIRAIL?** Totally unrelated." He starts to blush and his mouth makes a thin line as he fails miserably to hold back a smile.

"I didn't think you remembered that," he says, looking away as if it will save him any face. You roll your eyes and lean against the washer.

"I wasn't **THAT** drunk."

"You were pretty drunk."

"Says the guy who stared at the elevator panel for five minutes. Why do you think we went to MY room?" So, maybe it wasn't five minutes, but it was like he was trying to figure out some ancient puzzle. You both chuckle and he leans against the dryer as your conversation dissolves back into silence. He wants to ask you something, you can tell by the way he's looking down at the floor.

"Humans have that whole sexuality thing going on. Do you know if I even stand a chance?" His voice is quiet in a way that suggests pessimism. It's a good question, one that you don't really have an answer for. It can be hard to tell when Dave is serious or not. He jokes about stuff somewhat indiscriminately. He's never mentioned dating anyone either. And it's not like you have the kind of relationship with him where he'd tell you about a crush.

"I have no idea. Dave can be hard to read sometimes. A lot of times actually. He keeps his emotions behind seven proxies." You snort laugh at the stolen joke. Sollux finds it funny too, but his laugh is subdued by the uncertainty of your answer.

"He's avoiding me. I think I freaked him out," Sollux says pessimistically.

You cock an eyebrow and twist to look at Sollux more directly. "Why's that?" He shakes his head. The cue for it being a complicated answer he doesn't want to get into with you. It doesn't really matter the reason. His reaction doesn't exactly shock you regardless of what it is in response to. You can't imagine Dave grew up with a lot of support in the "dealing with your feelings" department. Anything he got would have been from Dirk, and Dirk only recently started working on expressing his baggage through a hole larger than a pinprick. You really had to work at that too. The only other source would be Rose, which now that you think about it, might give him a standing chance. "I wouldn't worry too much. Seven proxies, remember?" He shrugs and takes a deep breath before pushing off the dryer and picking up the empty laundry basket.

"I'm going to head back."

"You're not gonna fall right back into your slump are you?" You give him a hard look.

"No, I have a plan. This isn't my first encounter with a down-swing."

"Alright. If I catch you sulking again it'll be me AND Karkat breaking down your door. He won't be so creative in getting you moving." You wink at him and start making your way back to your room. Nepeta is there when you do. She's covered a large section of the floor with newspaper and has her art project contained on it. She looks at the way you're dressed and gets a devious smile on her face.

"Looks like someone had a pawsome day." You fall excitedly sideways into your desk chair and lean back to get at the desk's bottom drawr.

"You have no idea," You say, as giddiness starts creeping into your voice. "Nep, oh my god, Nep, it was so hot." She gets this wide-eyed look that happens when you gossip about relationships and quadrants with her.

"Ohhhh~~~! Tell me, tell me!" She says, completely forgetting about the painting she's working on. You uncork the bottle you pull out of the drawer and take a sizeable swig.

"I went in there so angry. Ugly crying angry. I was gonna rip this boy a new one. Totally did, I was all up in his face. Walls were involved, Nep." You take another swig. She's covering her mouth with her hands waiting in anticipation. "He was being a stubborn ass and I was just so unreasonably mad and I made this sound like a growling frustrated noise. I didn't even mean to, wasn't even trying. I thought I broke him. He was standing there silent for what felt like forevvver. Then he suddenly starts macking on me." She makes a high-pitch squeal and grabs at her hat.

"That's so purrfect! It's so hard for humans to purrduce those kitmesis growls because you can't purrceave most of them. I'm so happy purr you!" She jumps up and grabs your hands. Her excitement is infectious and you join her in the gleeful swaying of your arms. You only let go to clap your hands to your mouth, stand up, and spin around before falling back on your bed.

"Oh my god, oh my god, the sounds, oh my god. " You sit up to sip again the wine bottle and set it back on the desk. "He did this fuckin rad thing. Ok, so, we were getting mad hot and heavy, hella down, which you know, is huge. He's talking all close and shit and making this rumbly sound I can't really hear like it's standing on the edge of my hearing flipping me the bird. Hell if I know what he did, but he tried again and hooollly shit, Nepeta, it was the wildest most resonating resonance to ever fucking resonate. x2 voice combo. Two frisky frequencies crossing paths and high fiving each other in my ears." You fall back on the bed with your arms spread out. Then there is a sudden thud to your right and a Nepeta sitting on her heels with barely contained excitement.

"That's so catsiderate of him. He must be so ears over paws with you~~." She's toying with her hat now and looks between you and the shirt you have on. "What does it mean for humans to share clothes?" You move to sit cross-legged and let your eyes drift up as you think about it.

"For people dating it's...comforting I guess. Their clothes smell like them obvs, but also it usually isn't something you ask for. You just steal their shirt like 'yoink this is mine now'". You remember your wearing his pants too. "He gave me the pants to borrow though. My skirt got a little dirty." The grin on your face is absolutely scandalous. Nepeta jams her hat back on before grabbing your hands and shaking them.

"That's exactly the mix of red and black you and Sollux have. Oh, I bet he doesn't know! You should tell him it's territorial too. Clothes sharing isn't a kitmesis thing, but claiming something of theirs as yours could be," she says. You can see the wheels turning in her head as she ponders it. You hadn't really thought about it that way. She has a good point. You'll have to find the opportunity to casually drop that idea. She jumps up off the bed and springs to her desk, agilely avoiding stepping on the project supplies all over the floor. "I've got to write that down in my notebook. Karkat and I can mews over it later."

"One of you needs to minor in something you can use this as a thesis for. No way are your musings, not book length by now."

"Purrhaps, or maybe one day he can write screenplays with it. Imagine the kinds of romantic entanglement geometry he could make," Nepeta says, swaying with excitement at the thought. That would be off the rails. Karkat reads so much of that stuff. You haven't read any of his writing yet, but you imagine it is probably pretty intricate. He's good at organizing things. While Nepeta has her back to you, you quickly pull the shirt collar up to your nose. Maybe it's the wine starting to hit you, but you feel a sense of calm as you breathe in the scent that lingers on his clothes.

#  ==> Be Karkat.

So, you've decided to meddle. After a long talk with Kanaya last Saturday, you've been cleared to meddle by your moirail, but only if you really really need to. You have decided that you really really need to. Something has definitely occurred between Dave and Sollux because they are avoiding each other. You are certain of it and it's getting weird. Although it would seem that it is mostly Dave doing the avoiding. He's trying to be sneaky about it, and physically he's damn good at it. If he doesn't want you to hear him coming, you won't. However, if you question him even in the vaguest of ways, the guy is a terrible liar. Regardless, it's annoying you. They've been at this all week. You have a project due soon and went through all the trouble of speaking in a civil manner to an Ampora; Dave better get his act together so you can shoot this thing. That's your justification and your sticking to it.

Since his appointment with the ocular docterrorist, Dave has been grumbling and moaning about how dang bright everything is nearly nonstop. Apparently, he was told to stop wearing those sunglasses all the time, and has been given a new near identical set of glasses with different lenses that you're going to guess are not as dark and do something special. Regardless of their specialness and their benefit to his health, there is an adjustment period that Dave described as "migraine city population me" and then a bunch of words that don't matter. This is where your plan comes in.

carcinoGeneticist [C G] began trolling grimAuxiliatrix [G A].

G A: Karkat That Is Mean.

C G: IT'S NOT MEAN. IT IS EFFECTIVE.

G A: You Are Hiding His Medication.

C G: IT'S NOT MEDICATION, IT'S JUST EXCEDRIN.

G A: That A Physician Directed Him To Take.

C G: IT'S NOT LIKE I'M FORCING HIM TO NOT TAKE IT. ALL HE HAS TO DO IS TALK TO SOLLUX. SOLLUX HAS THE SAME SHIT.

G A: Are You Positive That This Silent Feud Even Exists.

G A: It Has Only Been A Few Days.

C G: YES AND IN JUST THOSE FEW DAYS THEY HAVE SOMEHOW MANAGED TO MAKE IT BOTH GLARINGLY OBVIOUS AND HORRIFYINGLY UNCOMFORTABLE.

C G: DAVE IS ACTIVELY AVOIDING EVEN TALKING ABOUT THE GUY. BASED ON STATISTICS ALONE, WITH HOW MUCH DAVE TALKS, HE SHOULD HAVE AT LEAST MENTIONED SOLLUX IN PASSING BY NOW.

G A: I Know I Said You Could Meddle But I Am Not Sure I Fully Approve Of This Method.

G A: Could You Not Simply Invite Them To A Group Function Together.

C G: IF THEY CAN AVOID EACH OTHER IN CLASS, THEY CAN AVOID EACH OTHER AT A PARTY, OR IN ANY GROUP SETTING REALLY.

C G: THIS PUTS THEM ALONE AND FORCES THEM TO SPEAK TO EACH OTHER.

G A: Karkat Have You Taken The Moment To Realize The Situation You Are About To Put Sollux In?

G A: You Are About To Deliver To Him His Pity Crush In A State Of Incapacitation.

G A: That Is Practically Pornographic.

C G: it IS NOT PORNOGRAPHIC.

C G: I'M NOT OVER THERE BENDING HIS ARM TO TEND ON PRONG AND FROND TO HIM. I'M SIMPLY PUTTING THEM IN A SITUATION THAT COULD LEAD TO THEM BOTH BEING SLIGHTLY LESS HIGH CALIBER DUNDERFUCKS ABOUT THIS WHOLE SITUATION.

G A: I Have My Doubts But Do Let Me Know How It Turns Out.

G A: I Know I Only Met Him Briefly But Rose Speaks Well Of Him.

G A: For The Most Part.

G A: It Would Be Nice To See Sollux In A Healthy Moirallegiance As He Deserves Such.

C G: THANKS.

C G: I ACTUALLY ALREADY HID THE EXCEDRIN AND am WATCHING DAVE TEAR APPART HIS DESK AS WE SPEAK.

G A: You Were Banking On My Approval.

C G: <> .

G A: You Are Not Off The Hook Mister.

G A: I Will Hold You Personally Accountable In The Event That This Goes Sideways.

G A: <> .

carcinoGeneticist [C G] ceased trolling grimAuxiliatrix [G A].

#  ==> Dave: Scour Your Room For The Pills.

You can't believe you lost the Excedrin. You could have sworn that you left it on the nightstand. Your side of the room is chaos, but it's organized chaos. You know where everything is. Except for these goddamn pills. "Ugggh, where are they?" You groan as you hold a hand to your forehead. It feels like your head is going to crack in half and your eyes are going to run out of their sockets like an undercooked egg.

"If you cleaned your side of the room every now and then this wouldn't be a problem," Karkat chides far too loudly from the other side of the room.

"Not now. Fuck, have you seen them? I'm dying over here." You give up your search and sit on the edge of your bed with your head in your hands. You are on the edge of tears it hurts so much.

"Message Sollux. He gets migraines like it's nobody's business because he does such a shitty job of taking care of himself. He probably has the maximum strength they can legally--"

"Shut. Up." You're so curt in your interruption that Karkat shockingly does, in fact, shut up. You're not thrilled about talking to Sollux, but you suppose it has to happen eventually and this is a good excuse. It's got a purpose to it and you can bail as soon as you get ahold of those pills if you want to. 'If you want to', it rings through your mind again because the part of you that you're scared of desperately wants to see him again. That part of you, every time you dodge him, every time you go out of your way to not cross his path, every time you suppress the urge to bring him up in conversation has been making your chest ache. You pull out your phone and hold it in your hand a moment before unlocking it. It feels unusually heavy. For about the millionth time this week, you open the gallery and scroll through your pictures until you reach the only one you have of him. You took it when he wasn't looking while he was fixing your turntables. He's cun-tent and focused, eyes glowing behind the hair partially obscuring them from your view as he looks down over a tangle of wires with this faint smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. You close it and open pesterchum. You have to confront him. You don't really have much of a choice. You don't think you can bear walking all the way to the campus store and who knows if they even have it. It could all be for nothing and then you'd be stuck talking to him anyway.

turntechGodhead [T G] began pestering twinArmageddons [T A].

T G: i need a favor.

T A: what is it?

That was fast.

T G: please tell me you have something for migraines.

T G: i am dying.

T A: of course i do.

T G: thank fucking god.

T G: can you bring it over if i have to move again my head is going to explode.

T A: join the club.

T A: i am not moving if i move im going two throw up.

T A: you are welcome to join my darkness party tho.

T G: k.

turntechGodhead [T G] ceased pestering twinArmageddons [T A].

Begrudgingly you get to your feet and slowly make your way to the door. "He's making you go over there?" Karkat asks. You really wish he'd stop talking. You don't bother with an answer and continue the trek across the hall. You forget to ease the door shut and the click it makes when it shuts is the loudest damn thing you've ever heard and you once knocked over every single bottle in the shower. You really don't want to knock on this door so instead, you slump against the wood and jiggle the handle. Red and blue psi crackles around it just as you're turning it and it pops open immediately.

"Motherfucker," Sollux hisses from the top bunk. Using his psy-onics must have hurt. His room is as dark as it could possibly be given the time of day. He has those special black-out curtains up over the windows and his computer is off. Even the apiculture computer is somehow off. Did he put the bees to sleep or something?

"nnngh," you groan. He seems to understand your semi-nonverbal request because an arm appears from the top bunk and points to the nightstand where a bottled water and a pill bottle are.

"Two," he says before you can ask. You accidentally nod your head and are filled with regrets. The bottle has one of those child safety caps and you fuck it up three times before you get the bottle open. Each click is deafening in the silence. You down the pills with a generous amount of water. It's cold. He must have just taken some of these himself. With a quiet whine, you set your shades on the table and shuffle to the bottom bunk and lay down. You suppose you can stay. It's quiet and dark in here.

You wake up sometime later to the sound of wood creaking as Sollux slowly climbs down from his bunk. It can't be too much later because your head still hurts, although it's much more bearable now. He has his glasses off and is holding his forehead much like you were. He's making his way over to the bottle of pills. "How long has it been? Should you be taking more of those?" you whisper.

"Probably not long enough, but fuck it, my head is killing me." The pain in his voice pulls you to your feet before you can think better of it and you gently reach out to take the pills from him and set them back on the nightstand. You're nervous as fuck, but you know this will help. "Hey," he weakly protests. Your pulse quickens and it does nothing good for your headache. The idea that you can help him with this, that you can make it better pushes you forward.

"Sit," you say as you steer him to the bed. "Face that way." You gesture to the door and he follows your directions, turning and pulling his feet up to sit cross-legged. You sit behind him. Part of you is terrified to touch him, but there is also a part of you that desperately wants to.

"What are you doing?"

"Dirk taught me. We would get pretty bad headaches sometimes." You start at his shoulders. Troll's and Human's muscular structure doesn't differ too much. It's the same idea. You figure the pressure points ought to work about the same. You knead at the muscles in his shoulders working down between his shoulder blades before running your hands back up and fanning them out again. This time you press your thumbs into the junction right before his arm. You feel him hold his breath for a moment before letting it out to breathe normally again. You count in your head and move onto the next ones on his neck. You can feel it giving beneath your fingers as you work little circles into the muscle. It's somewhat relaxing in how it's a practiced motion your hands can almost do themselves. Unfortunately, that leaves room for your mind to be vividly aware of the feeling of his skin against yours, every small movement he makes, the small sharp breaths that you can tell he's trying to hide; you think he might have his hand over his mouth.

You tip his head forward slightly and press at the two spots at the edge of his skull. The sound that slips through his fingers pulls you from your trance and you can feel the blood rushing to your cheeks as you work your thumbs firmly into the spot. You figured that might happen, this spot is specifically for migraine pain, but even expecting it, the whimper makes something in your chest flutter.

"Dave, stop." There is an urgency in his voice that has your hands halting immediately and pulling away from him. "I can't let you blindly do this to me." He's still facing away from you and you can see the tips of his fingers at his sides as he holds himself. "I know quadrants confuse you, but you should know that this is really really pale and...and..." He's struggling to say something and it's more than his headache holding him back.

"I know," You interrupt before he can say anything else that might dissuade you from speaking up. You can feel it at the back of your mind. It happens now or it happens never. Like a fixed point where fate diverges. You ball your hands into fists to keep them from shaking. Why is this so hard? "I know it's pale, but if you don't mind, I don't mind." You clench your teeth in an attempt to keep your cool. Sollux slowly and carefully turns, not to completely face you, but enough to look at you.

"Dave, it is so hard for me to think right now. What are you saying?" he asks.

You take a deep breath. When you speak it's like a dam breaking slowly and then all at once. "I like you, a lot, too much. I didn't know or I didn't want to until- Fuck, I saw you lying there and you weren't moving and I--" You cover your face with your hands, but it doesn't still the words that won't stop spilling out. "I can't get you out of my fucking mind. I've been dodging you all week because I'm so emotionally stunted that I do some kind of acrobatic pirouette off the goddamn handle at the slightest indication of feelings. Which was easier than I thought it would be because apparently, I memorized your schedule unconsciously like some kind of repressed uptight victorian who can barely handle existing in the same space as you much less holding your hand- oh god please make me stop talking. Either say something or strike me down now before I further humiliate myself, before any more incriminating confessions launch themselves from my mouth."

"Dave." Oh thank god, he said something. You can stop speaking now. You bite your lip just in case your brain gets any more bright ideas. "Calm down. It's okay." There is the soft rustle of fabric as he moves to sit beside you. His hand touches your back and runs up and down in a slow, soothing motion. He's so close to you. His leg is touching yours. You want to lean against him so badly. You try, but your body won't let you and you hesitate. This is so pathetic. He probably thinks you're so pathetic acting like this. This was a bad idea. He's going to let you down easy, but you know it'll be the end of your friendship. It'll be like the past week, but forever. He pulls you the rest of the way and you fall against him. You bring your hands away from your face, but you keep your gaze downward. Your stomach is tied in knots. Your mind still isn't willing to let go of the idea he'll say no because if you do it'll only hurt that much more when he tells you to get lost. "I make a terrible Moirail." Oh god, here it comes. "You think I look pitiful now, but it goes so much farther. I'm really fucked up." His voice nearly cracks at that. "I'm really messed up, Dave. Trust me, you don't want any part of this. I'll only wear you down. You've been too nice to me already. I shouldn't have led you on." He's ripping your heart out and he's doing it with a cliche. It's him, not you. It makes it hurt worse. "You've got a chance at getting your shit together. I'll just ruin that." Wait, he's serious. He thinks you're a vaguely functional human being, or at least he thinks you have a shot at being one, and that he's just going to mess it up. He saw you have a fucking meltdown; how can he think he can wreck you any more than you already are.

You sit up abruptly and look directly at him. "Are you fucking kidding me? I'm like the damn poster child for fucked up bullshit." You see him wince and bring your voice back down. "If you think you can mess me up any more than my brother did then you're fucking crazy." Your eyes go wide and your expression falls to horrified realization. That wasn't supposed to come out. You didn't mean to say that. You're suddenly very aware that you don't have your shades on and every fiber of your being tells you to run. You try to scramble away from him, but in your panic, you forget how close to the edge you're sitting and wind up hitting the floor hard. You stay there. This one can't be played off. You can't talk your way out of this one. His hand taps your shoulder and you look up to see it being extended to you. This isn't the first time he's helped you up off the floor. You remember the first time he did it. The way you stumbled into him. The way that brief contact meant far too much to you, so you brushed it off as just from you being touch starved. Another thing on your list of problems. You take his hand and let him help you back up onto the bed. The two of you sit side by side on the edge. Neither one of you can look at the other. Your hands are bracing you at either side and you have your fingers twisted up in the sheet you pulled askew when you fell.

"He's the one looking for you, right?" Sollux asks.

"Yeah." You feel him shift beside you before his hand covers yours.

"Are you sure about this? Are you sure you want someone like me?" There is a fragility to his voice, a cautious optimism that dares to hope.

"Not someone _LIKE_ you, just you. I don't care if you're a mess. I'm a mess. With our powers combined, we can be the hottest mess anyone has ever seen. Captain planet will take one look at us and be like I ain't touching that one. Who knows, maybe we can cobble together one vaguely functional being like some kind of ill-advised kimera." You're rambling again. This time you stop yourself. The silence hangs. You aren't sure what else to say so instead you let go of the sheet your fingers are still digging into and flip your hand over to gently take his. He lets out a single hesitant chirp at you. You smile and hum in the same sort of fond affectionate way you had before.

"What does that mean?" he asks.

"What does what mean?"

"The sound you made." he says, "I had no fucking clue how to possibly google it." You chuckle behind closed lips as you recall your own frenzy of searching.

"I've never thought about it. I guess it's... a response... a way to express fondness." You shrug. "You chirped at me and it was nice." He squeezes your hand. You suppose he's just as nervous as you are. "Does your head still hurt? Want me to finish doing what I was doing?" You ask. It isn't what you're really asking though. You can't say what you're really asking. Instead, you ask if he wants to pick up where you left off. If he wants to continue doing what you both have established to be distressingly pale.

"Yeah. Could you? That was actually helping a lot." He lets go of your hand and turns to face the door as you had instructed before. You situate yourself behind him and find your place again, pressing your fingers against the hollow at the base of his skull, then the two spots to either side of it. He's still trying to disguise how nice it feels, but not like before.

The points by his ears are harder to find because his ears are a different shape than yours and the rounded cartilage is how you find them on yourself. His come to points and it makes them a bit longer than your own, and you think the angle may be different, but aside from that, they are fairly similar. You have one hand bracing the right side of his head as you feel around near his temple. "There?" you ask, not sure if it's the right spot. If you find the first one and the last one you should be able to guess where the rest are. He makes an 'mhm' noise in response and again when you ask him about the other one. The whole time you go through them, five of them to a side, you have to resist the temptation to run your fingers over his ears. You're not exactly sure why you want to touch them, just that you do. Perhaps you wonder if his ears are sensitive like yours, or maybe they're simply interesting. Not now, you tell yourself. He's practically boneless by the time you circle back to his shoulders, rubbing your hands over them briefly before doing the same up and down his neck.

"The other ones are on your face, so we'll just skip those for now," you say, a bit of embarrassment creeping in your voice. You know there are parts of his face that are the diamond version of third base, and hell if you are touching that right now. He starts to turn around when you remember, "Oh wait, forgot one." You place a palm to his back as you stand up. "Hmm," You run your fingers over his spine. You aren't sure if it's the same number of vertebra as you have. You brace him with your arm in front of his shoulders. "Your spine might be different than mine. Which one of these hurts the most?"

"Why would my back hurt if- ah, that one, that one." He says the third time you press against his back. You work at the spot until you feel him easing against you again. You run your palm over it and over his back like you're erasing a blackboard. You're not sure if it really 'settles the nerves' as Dirk had once told you or if it's just a mental thing.

"Better?" you ask.

"A lot. What was that?"

"Pressure points." He nods like he's listening, but isn't sure how to respond.

"I'm just gonna say it before it gets weird," he finally decides on.

"We are well past weird, but go ahead," you say, trying to inject some humor into the moment. He smirks and you quickly find a matching one on your own face.

"Are we Moirails now?" He's looking you right in the eyes and you're looking back. You can see that small bit of lingering uncertainty that you might have changed your mind. It seems ridiculous that it would need to be explicitly asked, but it does. You need that definity too.

"God, I hope so, otherwise, I'm the slut of diamonds." He rolls his eyes at you as if to chide himself for expecting a straight answer. You wonder how it is you know that. Maybe his pupils are a slightly different color, or maybe part of his eye is brighter. "You know what's funny?" you ask.

"What?"

"Neither of us have been able to see fuck-all this entire time."

"Really?" he asks through a laugh, "I thought those were just sunglasses." You grab both your glasses and drop down next to him.

"They were. These are new. Turns out I've been walking around seeing the world like I recorded it on a flip phone all this time." Okay, that may be an exaggeration. You can see alright without them. He puts his glasses back on, and you let him look at your face before you hide it behind your shades again. "It's why my head hurts. They are tinted different. They're only as dark as before when they need to be. The doc said I would probably get headaches for a little while."

"Let me know if you do. Blackout curtains are a godsend." He says as he takes up your hand again. It makes your heart soar. It's such a simple thing, but it leaves you with a deliriously good feeling in your chest, especially when he starts gently running his thumb over the side of yours. Man, you really are touch starved. You don't want it to stop, but your head still kind of hurts.

"Mind if I lie down again? My head's still bothering me."

"Oh. Yeah, sure. No problem," He says in a startled way as he stands up. "That's a good idea. I think I might do that too." He takes his glasses back off and sets them on the table again, holding out his hand for yours while he's at it, before heading around to the ladder built into the end of the bed. He has his foot on the first rung when he pauses. "Hey, do you um, do you want to come up here with me?"

You are unreasonably nervous about that in the strangest way. Fortunately, your mouth is very practiced in operating without your brain, and answers for you. "Sure." It takes you another moment to process it all before you're following him up there. It's different than sitting on the bottom bunk. This is where he sleeps. It's the same exact bed, just higher up, yet it is infinitely more intimate. He shifts the pillows around so you have your own, but the bed isn't really wide enough for it so it makes it look like one long pillow. This is all new to you. You've flirted with plenty of people, you've got that down, you've even made out with a girl or two, but it wasn't like this. Like hell if you were going to bring anyone back to your apartment in Houston. Much less bring them back and then put yourself in any state even resembling vulnerability, emotional or otherwise. You're certain that your face is red as you lie down next to him after having the world's fastest crisis over which way to face. You choose to face him. There's enough room for Jesus between the two of you and you have no idea what to do with your arms.

"Dave, am I making you nervous?" He says it with just a touch of laughter in his voice like he's surprised.

"What, no, of course not. I'm cool. So cool."

"Bullshit."

"First of all, how dare you. You woo me into your bed and the first thing you do is make fun of me. And Secondly," there's a pause and when you speak again your voice lacks the lighthearted tone it had a moment ago. "I've never been even remotely close to someone like this before." He takes your hand again, holding it in his. This time he laces your fingers loosely together.

"Honestly, I wouldn't have guessed, but I can totally see it now. Don't worry, I'll be gentle," he punctuates his teasing with a wink.

"You're an ass."

"eh eh heh, is this news to you?" He takes a deep breath and settles himself in as he lets it out. "Really though, just relax." He's brushing his thumb over yours again. You decide you like that a lot and try to mimic the movement. He closes his eyes and smiles the same way he did in the hallway what seems like forever ago. You like that too. You like a lot of things happening right now. How on earth you manage to settle your mind long enough to fall asleep again is beyond you.

#  ==> Be Karkat.

twinArmageddons [T A] began trolling carcinoGeneticist [C G].

T A: im exonerating any and all solids you owe me.

C G: TO WHAT DO I OWE THIS ABSOLUTION OF MY DEBTS?

T A: you know damn well what you did.

C G: I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU COULD BE REFERRING TO.

T A: there is no way dave could have gone through all those pills so quickly you did something.

C G: I DID NO SUCH SOMETHING. HE LOST THE BOTTLE. YOU ARE DELUSIONAL.

T A: so it is just coincidence that i had a migraine at the exact moment that dave misplaced his medication?

C G: YES. THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED DESPITE THE ODDS.

T A: and only shortly after i had mentioned to you that i felt a headache coming on.

T A: HMMM.

C G: DON'T YOU HMMM AT ME.

T A: HMMMMMMMM.

C G: FINE. THERE MAY HAVE BEEN A SMALL QUANTITY OF MINOR MEDDLING. IT WAS BOTH WARRANTED AND NECESSARY BECAUSE IT WAS PERSONALLY AFFECTING MY USER EXPERIENCE OF THIS THING CALLED LIFE. BOTH OF YOU ARE SHARING A SINGLE BRAIN CELL AND THAT BRAIN CELL HAS ANXIETY.

C G: KANAYA ALSO CLEARED ME TO DO IT.

T A: thanks kk.

C G: YEAH, YEAH, YOU'RE WELCOME.

twinArmageddons [T A] ceased trolling carcinoGeneticist [C G].

  
carcinoGeneticist [C G] began trolling grimAuxiliatrix [G A].

C G: I HAVE GOOD NEWS.

G A: Oh?

G A: And What Is This Good News.

C G: YOU DO NOT HAVE TO HOLD ME PERSONALLY ACCOUNTABLE IF THINGS GO SIDEWAYS BECAUSE THINGS HAVE NOT GONE SIDEWAYS. THINGS HAVE GONE VERY MUCH IN A VERTICAL FASHION.

G A: I Am An Authority On Fashions And Will Say That Vertical Fashions Are The Best Fashions In Which To Go.

G A: At The Risk Of Being Nosey What Exactly Occurred Or Has Come To Be From Your Meddling.

C G: DAVE WAS GONE FOR HOURS, SO LORD ONLY KNOWS WHAT KIND OF EXCRUCIATINGLY DRAGGED OUT AWKWARD MOMENT CULMINATED IN THIS, BUT AS DAVE PUTS IT, THEY ARE NOW "KNOCKING FEELINGS" WHICH I ASSUME IS A PLAY ON THE HUMAN EUPHAMISM FOR COITUS, "KNOCKING BOOTS". UNFORTUNATELY, HE WENT ON TO SAY THAT THEY ARE "ENTRENCHED IN THIS DIAMOND SHIT" AND ARE "CANON" AND THAT I SHOULD INFORM NEPETA.

G A: There Is A Certain Charm To His Way Of Phrasing And Elaboration.

C G: YOU WOUND ME. HOW COULD YOU BETRAY ME LIKE THIS?

G A: Oh Shush.

G A: You Are Being Dramatic.

G A: Back To The Matter At Hand I Am Very Pleased At This Outcome.

G A: Have Either Of Them Discovered Your Interference?

C G: DAVE MAY HAVE NOTICED WHEN I THREW THE EXCEDRIN AT HIS HEAD AND SAID: "YOU'RE WELCOME".

G A: I Am Not Condoning Your Behavior.

G A: That Said I Wish I Could Have Witnessed The Interaction.

G A: What About Sollux?

C G: HE IS SLIGHTLY MORE OBSERVANT AND FIGURED IT OUT FOR HIMSELF. HE MESSAGED ME A LITTLE WHILE AGO ABOUT IT.

G A: I Shall Return Shortly.

G A: I Would Like To Tell Rose Of These Events.

grimAuxiliatrix [G A] is an idle chump.

#  ==> Be Dirk: Wait for Roxy.

You're standing outside your apartment under the overhang leaning against the wooden railing. The ashtray fits perfectly on it. You know it's a filthy habit. You picked it up shortly after being kicked out. The stress was just too much for you. You tried to quit once before, but here you are again. You asked your doctor about maybe taking something to help you stop, but it conflicts with the medicine that keeps you from staring off into space for long periods of time while you go to the 'other place' in your head. You take a drag. They don't taste so good anymore. They never really did, but they didn't use to taste as bad as they do now. It's probably the guilt. Dave doesn't know you smoke and you intend to keep it that way. He'd be so disappointed. You see Roxy coming up the walkway with a black plastic bag in her hand. You take one last hard drag before putting out the cigarette just as she's making her way toward you.

"Those are going to kill you, Dirk."

"I know, I know." You let her into the apartment and she puts what is clearly beer into the fridge before coming to sit with you at the small table below the window with one in each hand.

"So, what's eating you?" she asks as she twists the cap off and hands you the bottle before doing the same for her own. You take a swig and set it aside.

"I lost my job. They went around handing out pink slips today. I have two weeks before I'm screwed. There's no way I can find a job that quick, not to mention it would be at least a week before I saw a check." She makes a 'yikes' face and takes a sip of her drink before speaking.

"That's rough, man. You had a real good thing going too."

"I know," he says.

"You know I'm always game to skim my mother's account for you if you need it. Do you have anything saved?"

"A little bit, but not much. I was mostly still living paycheck to paycheck. Any extra was coming from those scavenge computers I was building and salvaging parts from."

"What about that shop you sold the good shit to?" You perk up a bit. You hadn't even thought about that. Equius did sometimes complain about the people he and his brother wownd up hiring. He had voiced his desire to replace them with robots, but he was more so a hardware guy and didn't trust Sollux not to screw him over. You hadn't taken him seriously, but maybe you should have.

"Zahhak's. Yeah, that could work. If he is still thinking of replacing his workers with robots, he could probably use a hand. It would be temporary seeing as I would more or less be building my replacements, but it could carry me over until I find something else." There is also a workshop in the back and you'd be lying if you said you weren't envious of it. Your phone pings and you look to see that it's Dave.

turntechGodhead [T G] began pestering timaeusTestified [T T].

T G: yo.

T G: i decided of my own free will and totally not your influence or circumstances that backed me into a corner to talk to sollux.

T G: check it.

turntechGodhead [T G] sent timaeusTestified [TT] file "getadamnsnapchat dot jpg."

You open the picture and at the same time, Roxy laughs from across the table. "Dave message you too?" she asks.

"Yeah," you say with a small smile as you look at the screencap of the snapchat he sent to Roxy. It's a selfie of him and Sollux. They're both flashing peace signs sideways so they line up to make a diamond while posing in an over the top way so as to appear as if they aren't being genuinely sappy and romantic. The ironic couple photo. Definitely a Dave move to avoid having a serious conversation with either of you about his love life. "It would be a failing of me as his brother if I didn't fuck with him at least a little," You say. Roxy laughs into her beer.

T T: Gaaaaaaaay.

T G: et tu brute?

You look up at Roxy. "What did you say to him that he's quoting Shakespeare's Caesar at me?"

"I told him he really puts the homo in side hoe." It doesn't work perfectly, but it doesn't have to. You chuckle and take another sip of your beer. You're barely halfway through it, but Roxy is getting up for another. You're starting to think there may be a conversation you should have with her, but then again she is a college student. Don't most college kids drink a bit more than the average person? A decision for another time. You shelve the thought to the back of your mind and pull up a new chat window to message Equius.

timaeusTestified [T T] began pestering centaursTesticle [C T].

T T: Are you still considering replacing your sub-par employees with something more metallic?

T T: Unfortunately I'm about to have a lot of availability in two weeks if you are looking to hire a hand.

centaursTesticle [C T] is an idle chum.

"You seem to be taking this really well. I take it you also knew beforehand." You say to Roxy as you pocket your phone. Equius probably won't get back to you right away at this hour.

"Yeah, but the other way around. I had a strong hunch that Sollux had feelings for him. He more or less let it slip while he was high off his ass. The fact that it's pale helps. Even if they did vacillate a bit like Sollux and I do, I think I'd be okay with it. Neither of us would be invading the other's quadrant, ya know? I mean, I can't really expect him to do that for me, but not him." Makes sense. She takes a sip of her drink and seems to remember something halfway through, hunching over and quickly swallowing while holding up a finger. "Sollux had asked me something the other day, but I didn't know the answer. What even is Dave's sexuality?"

You have a fairly good idea of what Dave's deal is, but you're not certain he would appreciate you talking about it behind his back. "In his own words, complicated. He's never straight up told me, but I've pieced it together at this point." Roxy looks at you waiting for you to elaborate, but you shake your head. "Oh, no. If you want to know, you'll have to ask him. I can't break the bro code."

"You're right. I guess if I wasn't as open about it as I am I'd be pretty pissed if people were talking about me like that too." You see her eyes flit down and quickly look away. It's a look you know well. It happens every time you meet someone new. She's looking at your neck. You've caught her doing it a few times, usually when you're on this topic, but she always looks away immediately.

"Roxy, you can look."

"Hm?"

"I can see you looking at my neck. It's okay. Here." You take the box off your collar and set it on the table. You move your chair closer and tilt your chin up. "Go ahead. You can touch it if you need to." Your voice comes out raspy, but you think maybe it might be slowly improving. It could be your imagination, but you want to hope it's true. She moves with uncertainty, looking down, then up to your eyes before letting her gaze linger on the slightly raised scar. It's faded just a little over the years but still stands out considerably against your skin. When her fingers run over it they pull away at first as if she thinks it might hurt you. They go all the way across it, tracing the same path Bro's sword took. Her other hand comes up and they both run down the sides along your tendons. She's seeing how far across it runs. She's measuring how close to death you were.

"Your head was back when it happened, wasn't it?" She's probably thinking about how they do it in the movies.

"My saving grace. I knew I couldn't dodge it. That was the best I could do." It hurts to dwell on it too much, but you rather she know it was of your own volition and will to survive. She takes her hands away and chugs down more of her drink. You take a long swig as well.

"Did Dave...?" she asks, letting the question trail off.

"Dave saw everything. He held a towel to my neck while we waited for the ambulance." Her already sympathetic expression worsens. "I might have stood a chance if it happened on the roof, but we strifed right there in the living room. I had never seen Bro like that. It was like he was possessed. He was already mad at me. Then I fucked up and came home with a hickey on my neck."

"Wait, so what started it?" she asks softly.

"He wanted me out the minute I turned eighteen so Dave 'couldn't hide behind me anymore', because I was 'making him weak', and 'derailing his destiny', that I had to leave before I turned him into, 'one of you people'." She's holding your hands in hers now. You've never told anyone about it like this, not even Jake. Every other time has been cold, clinical, and to the point. "After it happened he stood there frozen, then he dropped his sword and left. He had never done that before. I had never seen him so much as set it down let alone drop it. The weird part is, he didn't leave me for dead. He was the one who called the ambulance. When Dave did, they told him one had already been dispatched to that address. He probably did it to get the jump on calling it a training accident." When the words finally stop tumbling out, she immediately pulls you into her embrace and starts petting your head. You don't know how this happened. You were trying to comfort _HER_. With anyone else, you'd be horrified, but this is Roxy. She's easier to talk to. She wore you down. She opened up first and held the door for far too long. She didn't think you were crazy when you would space out. She committed fraud for you. She pushed you into therapy which ultimately saved your relationship with Jake that you were destroying with your needy, crazy, paranoid behavior. You have no idea how she could possibly care so much for someone like you, someone so awful on the inside. Awful like the acrid smoke you're craving right now.

"Dirk, that's terrible. That's so terrible." She's whispering and you wonder if it's because your voice can't project and she's unconsciously matching the volume or if she's just that horrified.

"It's okay. I'm okay now." You pull back and run your hands down over her hair to cup her face and press your forehead to hers. You would have never been able to do that without her persistence. "Dave will be okay too. I promise."


	9. The part I left out because I'm talented like that

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> adding the original note for posterity. i originally posted this chapter like 5 chapters late. 
> 
> Y'all not gonna believe this shit, but I was saving the beginning of the next chapter and noticed a rouge file. I COMPLETELY LEFT THIS SECTION OUT OF THE DAMN STORY. Which is a tragedy because I love it, but also I referenced it later so I should probably put it back in.
> 
> edit: btw i'll make sure that the halloween chapter is edited and posted by halloween.

# ==> Be Sollux.

It's movie night again and you're sitting up on the roof waiting for Dave. You're hitting greens when you hear him coming up the ladder. He's fiddling with something in his hands and when you tilt back your head to blow the smoke up and away, you hear the soft click of a shutter.

"You know what I'm doing is illegal right?" you ask him as he comes to sit down next to you.

"I'll keep it out of my portfolio." He leans against you and shows you his phone screen where he's done a weirdly great job capturing you in such low light. "One for the personal collection."

"mhmm," You say, eyeing him as you bring the bowl to your lips again. You need to clean this thing, it's supposed to be transparent. He puts his phone away but doesn't stop leaning against you, instead, he leans more, letting his head fall on your shoulder. You put your bowl in the same hands as your lighter so you can reach over to pet his hair. When your lungs start to complain, you let the smoke go into the night.

Things between you and Dave are much the same and yet so much different. Most notably, he touches you more. However, it's only when you're alone like this. When you're alone he leans against you, holds your hand, simple touches that could be mistaken for being entirely friendly, but you know they're more than that because he wasn't doing them before. They're hesitant, but he does them. You think there might be something to that, that it isn't only inexperience. He reverts to holding himself back in public. Not that you're big into public displays of affection, but you notice the difference. It doesn't bother you; this is new to him. But what kind of moirail would you be if you didn't give him a nudge? You take one last hit before putting the bowl and lighter back into your sylladex and then shift to wrap your arm around Dave.

"I'm glad you've decided to grace us all with your presence again," he says.

"I was sort of obligated to, seeing as I'm picking the movie."

"What movies did you pick?" After Roxy brought two that time, the movies are now up for vote.

"Johnny Pneumonic and the Alternian version of Hackers," you reply.

"Halloween is practically here and you pick nerd movies."

"You don't know horror until you witness early CGI depictions of the internet." You get a hummed chuckle out of him. With a squeeze of his shoulder, you get to your feet. He does the same and you follow him to the fire escape, through the window, and into the elevator even though it's only a single floor down. "Are you going to sit in the same time zone as me this time?" you ask as the doors close shut.

"Maybe, depends how nice you ask me." He's trying to be cool but is instantly melted when you unexpectedly ask him exactly that.

You turn and loop your arms around his neck. "Sit next to me?" His brain skips like a scratched disk as he looks at you.

"I uh...yeah, yeah okay." It's fucking adorable.


	10. Halloween

# ==> Be Dave.

You're sitting on Roxy's bed messing around on your phone while she changes into her costume. There is an event happening up at the barcade later tonight. Every year they set the machines to free play for Halloween. Apparently, it really draws in a crowd, not to mention, it gives people a chance at the high score boards before they flash them. You'll see Dirk and Jake there later after they're done with whatever it was they were up to with the rest of the horse brigade and Nepeta. However, first, you're going to pre-game with the Makara brothers because y'all are broke college kids and it's generally frowned upon to do drugs in public. They have some religious thing to go to later and that's when you'll part ways. They live close enough that it's not a bad walk.

"Can you pin my tail on?" Roxy asks when she comes out of the bathroom.

"Sure." You get to your feet and help Roxy get her tail centered before carefully pinning it to her pants. She's dressed as a sexy cat because of course she is. It reminds you of some kind of typical raver outfit. She's wearing a pink crop top with yellow and teal striped leggings under pink hot pants. The more cat-like parts of the costume: the arm warmers, leg warmers, tail and ears all look like they were cut from the same furry pink and purple material. She has those pointed glue-on nails too. You have a sneaking suspicion they aren't painted electric yellow by accident.

"Thanks. So, before Sollux gets here, how goes things in the diamond? You guys crawl into a pile yet?" She asks with an air of mischief as she makes her way over to her desk and starts doing her eye, nose, and whisker makeup. You nearly trip at the sudden personal question.

"What? No! I mean, we will eventually. No rush. We're keeping it low key. Real chill." Things have largely been the same for you two aside from some hand holding and existing in slightly closer proximity. You're not sure how this whole moirallegiance thing goes, so you're pretty much relying on Sollux to lead the way. You know it's a type of dating, and yeah, you have looked into it, but reed all you want it's different in practice. How do you even bring that sort of stuff up? Is it just like 'yo let's cuddle in a pile of random junk and put our baggage on display'? There has to be some kind of process to it. Is it a kind of date?

"Uh huh," she says while making the eyeliner face. She's doing that winged cat eye design. "I bet you haven't kissed him yet either." You have not. The internet was dodgy on that. Some people said moirails kissed, some said they didn't, some said only on the cheek, some said it was different with humans, and then others were claiming it was all personal preference. You're saved from this conversation by the sudden opening of the door via psy-onics. "Geez, Sol. Have you heard of knocking?"

"Oh my god," you say through stifled laughter. "You're Pika-chu."

"Pika pika, motherfucker," he says before plopping down next to you on the bed. Sollux is wearing one of those hooded jumpsuit style costumes that could probably double as pajamas if someone really wanted to. He has ripped the ears off to make room for his horns and has the longer set painted yellow and black in their place.

"That's fucking adorable," Roxy says with a quick look before continuing to color in the nose outline she's made.

"You gotta do the thing." You say as you jump to your feet and pull a camera out of your sylladex.

"Do what thing?" he asks.

"You know, the sparky thing."

"I am not doing 'the sparky thing', especially if you're going to take a picture of it."

"Ask him again after he hits the bong a few times." Roxy chimes in as she fights the clasp of a choker that has a little ice cream cone tag on it. You relent and throw your camera back into your sylladex and exchange it for the prop sword to your costume.

"Dave, are you dressed as Dante?" He asks with a confused expression that is morphing toward pleasant surprise. "I didn't know you played Devil May Cry." You smirk and Sollux is immediately leary of it.

"I have not."

"So why are you dressed as Dante?" he asks with increasing suspicion.

"Go on, Dave, tell Sollux the asinine reason you are dressed as Dante."

"So that every picture I photobomb can be featuring Dante from Devil May Cry." you say, putting emphasis on 'featuring Dante from Devil May Cry' in an announcer's voice. Sollux smacks his palm to his face.

"You're kidding me."

"Nope." Truth be told, it isn't solely for the meme factor, this is actually a costume you stole from Dirk. More accurately, it's a costume he left behind, and you're wearing it out of convenience, but it's also a good excuse to walk around shirtless, with a sword, in a fly as fuck coat. Plus, you have the hair for it.

"That's so dumb," Sollux sighs.

Roxy walks over an leans down close with a hand on his shoulder. "I'm related to him. I didn't have a choice in the matter, but you, that's all on you, buddy." She gives him a pat on the shoulder. "Your affections, there they lie."

"Well, I guess I have a type," He says with a smirk and a full duel arm shrug. You and Roxy look at each other and then back at him. "What?" he says through a laugh. Roxy rolls her eyes and starts making her way out the door, tugging him along by one of his horns. "Hey! That is attached to my skull, you know."

"Come on you," Roxy says.

You mimic his shrug with the arm not full of sword as if to say, "Can't help you, bro", and follow them outside. You get passed the stoop of the building when it occurs to you that no one has mentioned yet how exactly you're all getting to the Makara's place. It's not an excruciatingly long walk, but it's still just far enough to be annoying. The two of them stop and Roxy takes up Sollux's hand while he holds out his other to you. "So we're all holding hands now?"

"You don't have to. You guys might as well weigh as much as fucking tissue paper to my psy-onics. I don't really have to focus too much to pick you up." Ah, so that's how you're traveling. He tries not to look a little disappointed and starts to pull his hand away, but you grab it before he can, and throw your sword back into your sylladex. You don't need to be dropping it. He laces your fingers together. His skin always feels just a bit warmer than yours, like he was out in the sun for a few minutes. You're so used to the heat that you always feel cold now, so it's another layer on that cake of small things you keep noticing about him that makes your brain stop working momentarily. You look over at Roxy as you feel his psy-onics on your skin all at once. It's that warm static feeling you remember from that day when you freaked out and he was protecting you in the alley. She gives you a reassuring smile as you all lift into the air. This must be old hack to her. For you though, this is new hack, very new hack. You aren't afraid of heights, but you find yourself gripping Sollux's hand just a bit tighter. "You good, man?" he asks.

"Yeah, I'm just not super accustomed to being fifty some-odd feet in the air. My stupid monkey brain and millions of years of evolution tell me this is how I die." It's strange. Your feet aren't on the floor, they don't feel like there is anything solid under them, and yet you don't feel like you're hanging in the air exactly either.

"Rox?" You hear him ask, but don't see because you've decided to be an idiot and look down. You feel him start to let go of your hand and your brain throws up a red flag as if letting go will cause you to become a gross paste on the ground. You start to protest and grip him tighter, but he takes your arm and slings it around his shoulders while he snakes his around your waist. Oh. Okay, you are very okay with this. God damn, he's so warm against your skin. Your skin? Oh shit, his arm is beneath your coat. His hand is directly against your shirtless side. That bastard is copping a feel. What a tool. You all start moving now that you're no longer irrationally concerned about falling to your death. It's actually really nice up here. You can see why Sollux is sometimes just chilling way up in the sky when you message him. If it weren't for the wifi only going so far, you bet he'd do homework up there. It isn't long before you start descending again. The house you land in front of looks like it has seen better days. It has three mailboxes to the left of a single door covered in chipping paint that lets you see the previous two colors it was before being slate grey. Sollux rings the top doorbell and a moment later someone you're going to guess is Gamzee's brother answers the door. He starts making gestures with his hands that you don't understand at all.

"Ummm..."

"He says they are just about to order some pizza if you want to chip in." Well, that's something new about Sollux. Apparently, he speaks hand.

"I'm down for a few slices," You respond.

"Same," Roxy says. Other Makara gives the okay symbol so you guess he can read lips or something. You all start following him up to the third floor. The inside of the building only looks slightly better than the outside, but the apartment itself seems okay once you're inside. The decor, on the other hand, looks exactly like you'd expect it to for two twenty-something stoner guys to pick out. It's pretty cool. Has that grunge feeling to it. The shrine is a little concerning but other than that it's very stoner degenerate chic.

"What's good, my invertibrother? That you're new diamond dude? I may recall catching his visual in my sight line across from your living space," Gamzee says while also making those hand gestures foreign to you. You aren't sure how you feel about that introduction, but you suppose there are worse ways. He's the only person here, besides the people you came with that you know albeit vaguely. You made small talk with him once at the check-in desk, but you guess he doesn't remember. The other two you recognize from around, but have never actually met them. If the horns are any indication, you're going to assume the guy dressed as Rai-chu is Mituna.

"Yeah, you probably saw him across the hall at some point. Dave, that's Mituna and Latula. My littermate and his way more cool and more skilled skater of a matesprite." It's kind of cool how fast Sollux can spell your name with his hand. You suppose he must have a lot of practice with it. Mituna flips him off, but Latula seems to agree with him the way she laughs and nods her head. "I'm pretty sure you know of Gamzee, and that's Gamzee's littermate Kurloz." The two Juggalos wave at you in an eerily slow and unison manner.

"I'm gonna chuck these in the fridge before they get all warm and nasty. Anyone want?" Roxy asks while holding up a black plastic bag she dropped out of her sylladex. Kurloz is the only one to raise his hand. "Dave?" She asks, turning to you.

"Totes." You are so down for getting wrecked tonight. She makes her way off toward the kitchen. You follow Sollux's lead and take a seat on the beat up, but very comfortable sofa. Kurloz snaps his fingers and you turn your head in his direction to see him point at Sollux and then you, but that's all you get out of whatever he's trying to convey after that.

"Right," Sollux says with a nod. "Kurloz can hear you by the way. He's mute, not deaf." Good to know. So the communication barrier is only one way. That's still moderately awkward, but useful you guess. Roxy comes back and puts a can of beer down in front of you and brings Kurloz his before plopping down in the bean bag chair between him and where Latula is sitting on the couch. The two girls bump fists before Roxy cracks open her can and chugs some back. It's a little weird not really knowing anyone here, but they seem pretty chill. Gamzee peels himself out of the armchair he was lounging in to kneel by the coffee table and dig around in the cabinet beneath it.

"Righteous, still got them mirthful papers what for the making cozy the human sopor leaves."

"The regulars or wides? The ones you had last time are such a pain in the ass without a machine." Sollux asks as he decrypts a card that drops his weed into his hand. This is a little surreal for you but in a sort of exciting way. Like getting back some kind of delinquent youth shenanigans you missed out on. It's so mundane and normal, but it's tragically new to you. You're hanging out with six other people in someone's living room doing normal college kid stuff and it's blowing your damn mind. That's so sad. You sit back and sip at your drink while you watch Sollux and Gamzee run their weed through some kind of circular thing with a bunch of teeth and then proceed to roll joints. It's really methodical. Kurloz is talking to Mituna and you wonder if it's about you because it looked like he might have been spelling something shortly before making a diamond shape with his hands. Roxy looks like she's trying to follow along with just half the conversation and some guessing judging by her facial expressions.

"Man, it sucks. You can make a diamond with your hands, and a heart, but not a spade." She gripes before taking a long sip of her drink. Kurloz gently taps her shoulder and turns to show her a sign he's made with his hands that nearly has her spitting out her beer. In the negative space of his fingers is a spade. "You gotta show me how to do that. What even the fuck are your fingers doing?" He silently laughs and resets his hands, palms open facing himself before bringing down all but his middle fingers. "Well, fuck me I guess." He shakes his head with an expression of amusement then sets her drink aside and takes her hands to bring them up to the same position he just had his in. He pulls back and rezoomes the pose where he appeared to be flipping her off, then sticks out both his thumbs while Roxy follows along. Then slowly he turns his hands inward until his middle fingers cross and his thumbs touch. Roxy mimics him and marvels at the shape she's just made with her hands. "No shit." She picks up her head. "Yo, Sollux, check out this crazy bullshit Kurloz just showed me." He pauses what he's doing to look at her flipping him off before bringing her hands back into the spades shape she had just made, looking down briefly to make sure she got it right.

"Aw, you do care." He says in a sarcastically sweet tone while putting a hand to his chest. You nearly miss the way he curls in all but his middle finger before going back to rolling. Gamzee is done first and throws it into his sylladex. You guess they are both saving them for later because you see Sollux do the same after he puts it into some kind of clear plastic tube thing. "I'll get the first round you get the second?"

"Seems motherfucking legit, bro ." You now know the sign for motherfucking. Gamzee goes back into the cabinet to bring out a modest bong and disappears to the kitchen with it.

"If you put faygo in there again I will end you," Sollux hollers at him as he leaves. Latula gets up and walks over to the Nintendo. When her back is to you, you see the words "Skate or Die" written on the back of the ugliest, most 90's shirt you've ever seen and her costume suddenly clicks with some deep ass memory in your head of a shitty skateboard video game Bro used to play when you were little.

"I knew I recognized that god awful shirt. It's from that NES game that age'd worse than milk left on the sidewalk in July, but like Texas July which I'm assuming is infinitely worse than up here. I'm talking like mailboxes channeling Salvador Dali's ghost for life goals kinds of hot."

"Hells yeah, you thrash?" she asks as Gamzee wanders back in and hands off the bong to Sollux to pack before sinking back into the armchair.

"Nah," you reply. "My mad skills manifest themselves in the auditory sense with only the raddest most ill beats you'll ever hear." She throws a controller at Mituna that he only just barely catches. "Yo, lemme get one of those?" You catch yours more gracefully. "What's our poison?"

"Mario Party." She says as she tosses one more controller to Roxy before going back to her seat. "So what kind of jams you spinning, dude?"

"The most god awful raps you've ever heard backed by the auditory equivalent of an anachronistic digital seizure found dead in Miami," Sollux provides before taking his hit. Stoner etiquette you guess. Your weed, you go first. You make a sound of offense.

"You know you love my jams. Don't be frontin for your peeps, home sizzle. My music is killa. It's wanted in six states. My sound cloud is poppin like this week's hottest lip gloss. Front page of Cosmo. Written in impact because veranda just can't handle its power."

He makes a tch sound as he passes the smoking paraphernalia to Gamzee. "You wish."

"Such disrespect, and to think I made you a mix tape." Which is really a flash drive and that you totally forgot to actually give to him. He exhales into a cardboard tube you assume has some kind of significance.

"You made me a mix tape?" He says it with too much enthusiasm and Roxy calls him out on it.

"Busted!" She goes to take another sip of her drink only to realize it's empty and heads to the kitchen for another. You fish the flash drive out of your sylladex. It's been in there for like two weeks. You keep forgetting about it.

"Check it." You hold it out to him and he takes it and turns it over in his hands. It's made to look like a tiny cassette tape.

"Oh my god, you're such a dork. Fine, alright. Your music is kind of cool. Happy?" He tries so hard to sound like he's above it, but you can see right through the facade. The guy digs your tunes.

"Ecstatic," you say with the slight grin of someone who just won the most trivial of arguments. Latula finally starts up the game only to be interrupted by Mituna having a sudden thought.

"Sol, we gotta do the thing." Sollux looks at him as if he knows exactly what the thing is and was rather enjoying that Mituna had forgotten about it up until this point. He relents with a sigh though and gets to his feet as if he has already had and lost this argument too.

"Hold up, I gotta get the snap up, Tuna!" Latula says as she fishes her phone out of her pocket and rushes to open the app. A picture huh? You casually take your camera out and quickly check to see what setting it is on. Should be fine. The Captors get up and move over to a more open section of the floor before Sollux takes a sort of battle stance. His eyes only just start to glow before Mituna interrupts him.

"Charge me up, fuck ass." Sollux rolls his eyes and smashes his hand harder than need be against Mituna's head. You can see a halo of light over his skin, but his psy-onics aren't crackling. The reaction appears to be on Mituna's end because his eyes start to glow a lot brighter. When he lets go they both take some kind of anime stance and you ready your camera, quickly flipping to a preset that'll work better for the psy-onics about to happen. It's hilarious. Mituna's psy-onics are a slightly different shade of red and blue than Sollux's, and their respective colors crackle around each of them while their psi fight to overtake the other, zapping between their gazes. All while they are dressed as electric pokemon. You take like 12 rapid-fire pictures before they stop. Mituna excitedly floats over to crash into Latula just as his psy-onics flicker out and grabs at her phone. "Lemme see, lemme see!" Sollux is trying to look bored and annoyed, but you can see the little smile at the corner of his mouth.

Roxy leans on the edge of the couch and looks over your shoulder at the pics you took. They came out pretty good for being on the fly and using a default setting. "You need to send me one of these for blackmail purposes."

"Roxy, you can't ask my moirail for blackmail material."

"I can try."

"These are going on my blog."

"Do it and you are so hacked."

The bong comes back to Sollux and he takes a hit all the while glaring at you as you smirk at him. Roxy comes around and makes a motion like she's cocking a shotgun which appears to be another gesture that sails gracefully over your head. She invades your personal space, taking a seat on your lap to...kiss Sollux??? You're confused until you see her blow smoke out of that cardboard tube. Ah, got it. That's kind of hot. You file that one away in case you ever wanna give this shit a go. It would appear that this game of Mario Party still isn't starting so you gently shove Roxy off your lap and onto Sollux's so you can get up and retrieve more alcohol to pour down your throat. You're standing in the kitchen when the doorbell rings. You watch as Kurloz ventures down and comes back with three pizzas. He sets them on the counter and then looks at you, taps the side of his head, points to the pizza, and rubs his thumb and fingers together. Remember, pizza, money. Look at that, you figured out the thing. "Gotcha," you say and pull a few bucks out of your wallet for him. You think he says thanks. Sollux wanders in immediately, or maybe he was already en route to you because he comes to lean on the counter beside you instead of going for the food. It looks like it's starting to hit him because his eyes are half-lidded and he has that calm, hazy sort of expression that you've come to recognize as him being stoned.

"Having fun?" he asks. You nod.

"Mhm, was just about to get some pizza."

"Cool." It seems like something is on his mind, but he doesn't say anything.

"Where do they hide the plates?" you ask. He perks up and turns around, looking for a moment before he spots some paper ones on top of the microwave and separates one from the stack for you and another for himself. The others start filtering into the kitchen as you grab your slice and head back, then return because you forgot your drink on the counter, and head back again.

It is a good twenty minutes before you all coordinate yourselves and finally start up the game that has been idling on the title screen this whole time. You really shouldn't have expected any less from five stoned trolls in possession of some really fricken good pizza, like damn this might just be the best pizza you've ever had. Almost half of you don't have controllers so you play in teams except for Gamzee because he has "self-exiled his ass to the chair like an unsociable wiggler" so says Mituna. The rest of you divide up based on whoever you're sitting next to. Maybe it's the good buzz you've got going on, but you're starting to feel more comfortable. Not that you were particularly uncomfortable before, but there is always a certain awkwardness of being a new addition to a group. Not to mention the otherness of not smoking, but at least Roxy is drinking with you. It would be weird otherwise. The irony of only the trolls smoking the "human soporific grass" does not go unnoticed by you.

Neither does the way Sollux is sitting so very close to you. You really like it, but at the same time you can feel this feeling at the back of your throat and have to remind yourself that you're safe here. It's okay that Sollux is showing an iota of affection toward you in a semi-public setting. You have your real sword in your sylladex, there are two intimidating Juggalos to either side of you, and there is a psy-onic leaning against your shoulder. Oh god, there is a psy-onic leaning against your shoulder. Somehow you manage not to go into cardiac arrest and instead, like the cool dude that you are- and you are definitely cool, there is no question about that, you reach up and pet the side of his head through the silly Pika-chu hood he still has pulled up. You think you might have felt the start of a purr that was abruptly cut off. You brush off the thought and direct your focus back toward the game as the round ends and the mini-game starts.

As is often the case with Mario Party, the group picks way too long of a game and you're barely halfway through it before you have to call it so Gamzee and Kurloz can get ready for clown fest or whatever it is they're doing. You and Roxy chug what's left of your drinks. She demolishes you despite having more left. So, of course, you have to congratulate her on her lack of a gag reflex. She gives you a good swat to the arm, but it was totally worth it. You are drunk at this point, but not wasted. You aren't a lightweight. No way. Still, your inhibitions are at an all-time low as you now more easily take Sollux's hand and the three of you start walking down the road. Your hands swing between you and you think it might be your doing so you laugh.

"Dave, you're so drunk and we aren't even there yet," Roxy comments walking backward as she looks at you and Sollux.

"I am not. I am modesterly drunk."

"Yeah, lemme google that word." He says with a laugh next to you as he juggles the previously saved joint and a lighter in one hand so he doesn't have to let go of yours. You give him his hand back and he mumbles a thanks before stopping to properly light it. He scoops your hand back up and you all continue walking.

The sound of skateboards hitting pavement echos in the distance and the distinct sound of their wheels against the ground increases to a quiet roar, reaching its peak as Mituna and Latula whiz by on either side of the three of you. Latula's form is impeccable. Mituna's form leaves you wondering how he manages to stay on the board at all. He's all over the place, but somehow still managing a consistent direction. "Suck it, bulge wipes!" He hollers as they disappear ahead of your group. A few seconds later there is a single faint, but crisp "Fuck!" followed closely by a thud, and the telling sound of a riderless skateboard rolling away as Latula laughs.

When Sollux snickers, smoke comes out his nose. "That thing you did with Roxy, should try that sometime." That was pretty vague. You should elaborate. "The mouth to mouth gahnge." Good job. Sollux laughs and squeezes your hand. His laugh is so weird, but you like it.

"Sometime when you aren't already this drunk. It'll knock you on your ass if you crossfade like this." He takes a drag and you watch him with soft eyes. The way his eyes glow in the dark, the way the street lights illuminate him from above, the cherry that moves with his hand as he talks to Roxy. Shit, maybe you are more than a little drunk. You start hearing more traffic and think you're probably getting closer. Sollux puts the joint back in that little tube but puts it in his sylladex this time. "Dave, you need to pretend to be twenty percent more sober than you are for like, two minutes so we can get wrist bands." You nod, take a deep breath and straighten up.

"Okay, I'm good." Years of repressing any and all facial expressions have come in handy for once. You manage your way through the whole age verification deal pretty easily. Roxy and Sollux actually seem fairly surprised. You make it all the way to the last air hockey table before you drop the act and crack up. "Fuck, man, do I get an award for that?" Sollux shakes his head and drags you behind him over to one of the machines.

"Roxy," Sollux calls her over and tilts his chin in the direction of the Galaga machine he's standing in front of. "Distry is at it again. I knocked them clean off last time and they're already back, this time all the way up into the second slot." You've heard them mention their scoreboard turf wars before. This Distry person was hitting up a bunch of the space fighter games, but absolutely hammering the Galaga machine, which is Sollux's favorite tied with Gyruss because as he has said: "Gyruss is basically Galaga mapped on a tube." You lean closer to the machine and wait for the leader board to cycle around so you can see what ludicrous amount of points Sollux is defending. However, when the list pops up you turn to Roxy and give her a knowing look.

"Who did you say was in the second spot, Roxy?" you ask.

"I believe Sollux said it was Distry."

"Yeah, yeah, I got that, but how would YOU pronounce that name?" You tilt your head and raise your eyebrows at her. Her smile gives a little and she tilts her head the opposite way, then yours does the same until you're both closed-mouth grinning at each other and tilting your heads like dumb birds in a silent game of 'I know you know'.

"If anyone would like to fill me in on whatever _*this*_ is," Sollux says as he gestures to all of the both of you. "that would be awesome."

"It's not distry, it's Dee-Streye." You provide as if that makes things any clearer for him.

Sollux looks up and to the right as if tracking an object in flight. "Was I supposed to catch that or...?"

"Alright, okay, Imma level with you, so I may have possibly known this entire time whose been crushing your Galaga score," Roxy confesses, "And I may have possibly arranged the entire damn arrangement specifically to piss you off for the lolz." There is zero remorse in her voice. Not a drop. 100 percent premeditated.

"You what?!" he shouts.

"Dee-Streye is definitely Dirk." You say to clarify the betrayal levels. "He's clocked an unhealthy amount of hours on that game." Literally, he would drop everything and play the standalone home version if he thought he was about to zombie out and wasn't up for it. It helped him stay present. You lean back against the cabinet and watch the fur fly between the people to either side of you.

"So let me, so let me get this straight. You saw my unyielding love for this game and the joy it brings to my miserable existence, and you thought, 'hmmm I know what I'll do, let me get my cousin to mysteriously aggravate the crap out of my kismesis by continuously overtaking the entire bottom half of the board, but never quite knock him out of the top spot', yeah?" He stares at her for a beat before cracking a smile. "Have I told you lately how incredibly vexing you are?" For a hot second there you thought he might actually be mad, but apparently, petty convoluted long cons might as well be flowers and chocolate. "You know you could have just as easily run up the scores yourself and put it under a different name?"

"I could have, but what's the fun in that? Where's the romance, the majyks, the zazz?" She says with a grandiose sweeping gesture that very nearly hits you in the face. They're staring at each other intensely and alright you think that was a growl, you're tapping out.

"As much as I love being the peanut butter in this hate-fueled eye-fucking sandwich, I think I'm gonna go kill it on DDR before y'all glare so hard you manifest your spawn into existence right here and now for me to behold." You make a break for it, and head over to the dance games where you see Latula and Mituna going at it. They're just finishing up when you call dibs on playing the winner.

#  ==> Be Sollux.

"Shit, I guess that was awkward for him."

"Nah, he's fiiiine," Roxy says as she backs you into the machine. "Didja really like it? Was killin me acting like I didn' know what's up." You let your hands rest lightly on the bare skin of her waist.

"It was so aggravating. Did you tell him to consistently score 200 points higher than whatever I put on that board?" She cracks up and hides her face in your shoulder.

"Oh my god, that is definitely Hal's doing. I just told him to be as infuriating as possible about it."

"Hal?"

"The AI that lives in Dirk's shades that I'm not really supposed to talk about. He totes deff gave Dirk the heads up on point values and shit to do that." Well, that makes you feel a bit better about your own skills if it was machine assisted. You really need to meet this guy more officially than threatening him in an alley. The way Roxy talks about him, he seems like a decent guy. She really holds him in high regard.

"I was hoping you were behind all this. I was starting to suspect it was you playing the game or maybe hacking it."

"Like hell you were," she says against your neck. It makes you shiver.

"Seriously, nobody but you can piss me off like that." You punctuate your sentence by **CAREFULLY** , so fucking carefully, nipping at her ear. The little gasp of surprise has you thinking you fucked up until she seizes your face and lays one on you.

"I'm gonna go grab a drink. Gotta catch up to where Dave is on the drunk-o-meter. Can't have him stealing my crown as the reigning hot mess." With a wink, she disappears into the crowd leaving you dazed as she is known to do. You blink a couple times before making your way through the sea of people. The lights and sounds of the arcade are oddly comfortable in your haze. It's just the right amount of sensory input. The DDR machines are pushing it, but not overloading you. Mituna loves DDR. It doesn't matter that his balance is as shot as his psy-onics, he can hold onto the balance bar. He's really good at it too. Right now though, Dave is giving him a run for his money. You meander over to stand by Latula and watch as they match each other step for step on what looks like the expert difficulty. When the scores pop up Mituna edges him out by a breath and a hair.

"Fuck yeah, bend over and take it, Strider!"

"Keep it up, hentai crotch, we've got two more rounds and it's my turn to pick the song." Mituna laughs maniacally. You can see him filing away 'hentai crotch' for later use. Dave scrolls through the songs no doubt looking for something in particular. Oh boy, it's one of the trip machine songs. He's in for it. Mituna actually enjoys those songs; you don't know why. He jacks up the difficulty to challenge and stares Dave down. In response, Dave shrugs off the heavy coat that you don't even know how he was playing in before and looks your way before tossing it to you and slamming his foot down to match Mituna on challenge mode. A small crowd is gathering around the machine to watch shirtless Dante and fricken Rai-chu go at it and somehow you think it isn't just the sheer quantity of skill on display that they are eyeing up.

Even if your attraction is pale you still feel a sense of jealousy from all the looks, especially the human ones, because let's be honest, he's pretty easy on the eyes. Not to mention he did some good work making all those battle scars realistic. It's even a little over the top. Maybe Roxy or Nepeta did it for him.

Your mind snaps back to the present moment. Dave is moving like the rest of the world doesn't even exist. He is solely focused on contorting his body to hit these steps and he's doing it with an impressive amount of grace. "Holy fuck," you say in awe. The song ends and he bounces on his toes as he flips off Mituna with both hands. You can hear echoing Oh's going around. They have one song left and are bickering over who should choose it until some people who know what they are talking about start calling out for them to play a particular song. They look at each other and shrug in agreement before Dave scrolls through to it. When they really get moving you swear Dave doesn't answer to time. He is one with the fucking beat. This guy doesn't have bones. You aren't even registering the arrows before he's already hit them and on to the next. Something suddenly dawns on you. "Oh my god, Latula," You say as you grab her arm. "Latula he's doing this drunk. Dave is so fucking drunk right now." The ugliest snort laughs come from either side of you. Roxy came back at some point and is now to your left.

"I had no idea he could do that. 'S fuckin nuts." She comments as the three of you stand in the center of a bunch of drunk strangers losing their shit over your brother and your moirail. In the end, Mituna wins, but Dave loses gracefully and does that hailing bow gesture to satiate the troll's competitive streak before they fist bump. As soon as his feet leave the dance pad he staggers into you.

"I am going to die. Get me some water." Roxy came prepared and slams a water bottle into his hand. "Oh shit, new fav person." He alternates between sucking down water and panting as he hangs off of you while the five of you navigate toward the patio. Mituna is in similar straights as Dave but opts to stick his face directly into the water fountain. Dave eyes him enviously then abandons any and all dignity to join him at the shorter fountain to his right.

"Yo, Sollux, you want me to pick your jaw up off the floor for you, dude?" Latula asks as she jabs you in the side.

"Oh fuck off," is all you can come back with. Screw her, you're allowed to be impressed. The two of them finally come up for air and while Mituna just wipes his face on his sleeve, Dave walks the short distance to the bathroom. You follow him in to make sure he's okay since he's still breathing pretty hard and find him bracing himself against one of the sinks. "You alright?" You ask. He nods and straightens up a little.

"Yeah. Just way too. Moving fast." he taps his fingers against his chest in quick succession.

"I bet all that alcohol is going straight to your head too." You hand him a paper towel so he can wipe his face and he mumbles a breathy thanks.

"Man, that was fucking dumb," He says with a laugh as he turns around to lean against the sink instead and run his fingers through his hair. He seems like he's starting to catch his breath again.

"I'm not going to argue that. It was cool as shit though." You hand him his coat and he slings it back on. "Do you want to go outside and sit down for a bit?"

"That sounds amazing."

Roxy asks Dave if he's okay when you walk back out. You're not sure where Latula and Mituna went, but the three of you continue to make your way out the back door. The air is significantly cooler out here and judging by the sound Dave makes you're going to assume he's psyched about that. He claims the first chair he sees and collapses dramatically into it.

"I want that coat back when you're done with it." The synthetic voice comes out of nowhere and there is a guy dressed as...oh geez, he's dressed as Vergil.

"Jesus, Dirk. You can't be sneaking up on me like that," Dave says slightly startled by the sudden presence. "Where's Jake?"

"He bailed," Dirk says. "Crowds aren't really his thing." That's no surprise. Dave told you Jake and Jade grew up mostly alone on that island of theirs with their possibly radioactive dog lusus.

"Did you see me get through any of those songs?" Dave doesn't seem to realize his brother is dressed as Dante's brother. You're going to take a wild guess and say Dirk **HAS** played Devil May Cry. You take the seat next to Dave and he slumps against you. You note the slightest of upward eyebrow movement from Dirk at that. Roxy comes around and drags a chair over to sit in the space between you and him, completing the circle.

"I saw. It was kind of a dick move to flash step on that one sequence." You feel Dave chuckle against you. You'll have to ask him what exactly flash stepping is one of these days. He lets his head rest against your shoulder and much as he did for you earlier, you reach up and run your fingers through his hair affectionately. He makes this pleased little humming sound. "Dave, are you drunk?" Dirk asks, leaning forward on his elbows. Dave holds up his hand and pinches his fingers together.

"Little bit," he says, dragging out the 'i' in little. You move to put your arm loosely around him. He flinches but eases into your side only a second later.

"More like a lot a bit." Roxy says, "Right, Sol?" You nod at her. It was easier than making words happen. She scrunches her face up and stares at you a little harder before leaning over to tilt up your glasses. She stifles a giggle and falls back into her seat. "Kay, so, you're good too I see." You are, you are so very good at this moment. You have an arm full of moirail and are in a wonderfully absent headspace with a general feeling of contentment and hyperstimulation of some of your senses.

"Really now?" you ask, lolling your head in her direction. "And just what exactly do you see that makes you say that?" You articulate out of spite.

"Your fucking cryptid ass pupils."

"Lemme see," Dave says looking up at you, then realizing that's a terrible angle, and sitting up a bit. You lift up your glasses and look at him. "Wait, hold up." He takes off his shades to see the colors better. You're both sitting there staring at each other's eyes and you can feel Roxy judging you, but you don't care. "That's freakish- but in like a good way." He corrects himself quickly after the fear that he misspoke. You suppose people may have said similar things about his eyes. You let your glasses fall back into place and push them up the bridge of your sniffnode. Dave throws his back on too and settles back into your side. Dirk and Roxy share a look. Some unspoken message has been communicated between them that you're far too blitzed to decipher. It's then that you remember about wanting to meet this guy under better circumstances. Well, you suppose that'll have to be for another time. This isn't the greatest impression.

For a while, there is some small talk that you tune in and out of until Roxy decides she's game for another drink and your little group relocates back inside. The four of you scope out a spot up at the bar near the pool tables. Roxy gets something for herself and Dave tells the bartender "same" which is probably a mistake. You get a soda and are surprised to see that Dirk also has a soda until you see the ⃠ wrist band he has that designates him as a driver and gets him that sweet sweet responsibility discount on sugar water. He comes to sit down next to you and you feel a conversation coming on.

"We have yet to properly meet," He says without looking at you. He's watching Dave and Roxy set up for a game of pool. "I can't say that you seem fully in possession of your cognitive faculties at the present moment, but I know far too much about you to have not introduced myself yet." He holds out his hand for you to shake. He's left-handed like Dave is. "Dirk Strider," he says.

"Sollux Captor." Your lisp is out at full force and your eye twitches when you hear your own voice. What he said catches up with you. "What do you mean you know too much about me?" Has he been cyber stalking you or something?

"They both talk about you." Right, you are dating not one, but two members of his familial circle. You recall a human trope about this. The older brother threatening their younger sibling's quadrant mate. Is he older than Roxy too?

"Are you about to threaten me?" He gives you a weird look, so you elaborate. "You know, like on tv. The older brother thing." You see the small movement that indicates your message has clicked with him. You sometimes think Dave's expressions are a bit choreographed, but Dirk's are even worse.

"Nah, I trust their judgment." You hear a noise of excitement from Roxy and your focus is derailed to the game they have going on. She must have gotten a good shot in. "Also, I don't have to. Roxy wouldn't hesitate to deck you if you deserved it." This is true. It's a quality of her's you enjoy; she's capable. Very capable. It's hot.

"You're not kidding." You briefly wonder if that was appropriate, but the subdued aloof noise reminiscent of a laugh tells you that it was fine.

"Take care with Dave, though. We've been through a lot." Somehow the synthesized voice carries the twang of sadness in his words. He really must have an AI in those shades doing the heavy lifting on that modulator. Your eyes flick to the scar on his neck and the memory of a terrified Dave backed against a wall flashes in your mind. He claps a hand to your shoulder for a moment before retracting it and standing up. "Hey Roxy, stripes or solids?" he says as he picks a cue stick off the rack. He waves you over to join in. You guess you're playing in teams now. The heavy conversation fades away and the carefree air that the night previously had returns like it was never interrupted.

"Dave," Roxy says as she slings an arm around him and sways them both a little. "How's about you and Sollux hit up the machines so's I can shoot the shit wit Dee-Streye over here."

#  ==> Switch back to Dave.

Whatever Roxy ordered is hitting you a little harder than what you were drinking before. You sway a little when she loops her arm around you and suggests that you and Sollux get lost so she can gossip with Dirk. "Don't tell him _ALL_ my shameful secrets, Rox. Leave me SOME dignity," You say before slipping out from under her arm. You put your stick back on the rack and grab your drink before catching up with Sollux who is waiting for you where the floor changes over from wood to that tacky UV carpeting. He holds out his hand and you take it, feeling safe in the crowd, feeling safe next to him. Also because you are quickly approaching trashed. That is definitely a factor here. He leads you back over to the section with the older cabinets. "You ever play Gyruss?" he asks.

"Nah, s'like Galaga though you said."

"Mhm. It's easier, but don't tell anyone I said that." You stand in front of the machine and hit the start button, but nothing happens. You press it again and it still does jack shit. "It's an older machine. They basically, they basically hotwire the coin slot for free play events." Sollux says as he reaches down to hit a button by the coin slot that you guess is usually disconnected. He's lisping more than usual and it's cute in a weird way. You don't think lisps themselves are cute, but on him, it is for some reason. Drunk Dave brain says to tell him, but the fragment of sense you still possess reminds you that he's sensitive about it. The machine starts up now and this game has a theme that goes ridiculously hard for being a remix of Toccata and Fugue of all things. The controls are simple but different than anything you've played before, and Sollux informs you that Gyruss and Tempest are the only two tube shooters. That can't be possible. Why would there be only two games that play like this? You die almost immediately. Sollux hits the reset for you and you try again. This time he's standing close behind you, slightly off to the side, giving you pointers, pointing out how to charge your laser cannon for double firepower. That significantly helps. You are a god of death with double firepower. You manage to get past the first few stages before dying after a couple tries. Arcade games have never been your thing. That's more of Dirk's territory. However, you aren't that bad. You play a few more machines and get the longest streak ever on Time Crisis before wandering into the sensory overload section that is the rhythm games. They have one of the machines where you have to slap the crap out of all those buttons. And you are all over that. You do pretty well for never having played it. When You turn around you see that Mituna has found Sollux again. He nods at you and Sollux gestures for you to follow them. You grab what's left of your drink and the three of you head out to the alley. They lead you past the main crowd of people, down farther to an area where the smokers have seemingly exiled themselves.

"Imma smack you if'a ligh a cigaret," you slur at Sollux when you all come to a stop and lean against the wall. It is clear that that isn't what Mituna is setting fire to a moment later. It seems that you and Sollux are here mostly to keep his brother company. They're talking about something, but you aren't really paying attention. Your mind is too busy with how Sollux has his arm around you and yours is around him. You idly play with the soft fabric of his costume and you can feel the way his nails run over the thicker fabric of your coat. Mituna offers him the last drag before he puts it out and Sollux takes it. The cherry glows bright and the paper crackles. You chug the last of your beer and toss it in a nearly overflowing trash can as you pass by it on your way back to the main patio. Just as you're getting back to the main area you see Roxy peek her head out of the door before dodging back inside. They must be looking for you. A moment later she comes back out with Latula and Dirk.

"Are you sure you and Mituna don't want me to drive you?" Dirk asks, turning to Latula.

"Nah, man. We got wheels." She says, waving off his offer.

"If you say so. Stay off the main roads."

Roxy holds onto Dirk's arm, misstepping here and there as he leads all of you down to a side street where he's parked. You climb into the back with Sollux while Roxy rides shotgun. You wonder what time it is. It's hella dark out. The drive isn't long, but it's making you tired. You wish the seats were a little closer together so you could lean against your moirail. A smile creeps over your face at that thought. He's your moirail. When Dirk pulls up to the school and the three of you pile out of the car, he looks over all of you and decides Sollux is the most coherent.

"Make sure those two get to their rooms." Sollux nods and gives a quick wave before turning to head toward the dorms. You can tell Dirk is not reassured by this and is visibly fighting the urge to follow you up to make sure you get into your dorm. He resists and you hear him drive off as you enter the building. You've never been quite this drunk before. The elevator ride up feels endless and a little disorienting as you lean against Sollux. When it stops and doesn't continue immediately, you pick your head up to see him holding the door as he watches to make sure Roxy gets in her room. He finally lets the doors shut and you continue up to your floor. It hits you that this is where the night ends and you part ways. You sway a little as you walk down the hall and you fumble with your keys as you try to get them in the lock. You're about to turn the handle when you stop. You don't want him to go.

"Sleep with me." Your brain scratches like a record at the words that just left your mouth. "No like that, I mean, come'in my bed, **NO!** I mean, fuck, goddamnit, be not awake with me." You put your hand to your forehead to further obscure your face even more than your shades already do. Smooth, Dave, real smooth. You can hear him laughing behind the smirk he is doubtlessly wearing.

"Kay," is all he says as he finishes opening the door for you and ushers you inside. You throw your coat on the chair, set your shades on the desk, and brace yourself on the chair back while you undo your laces. You hear the zipper of Sollux's costume and shake your head when you see what he has under it.

"You really had pajamas under there the whole time?" You stumble a bit as you try to get your shoes off.

"They're house pants." He shrugs and looks around for a place to throw his costume before just dropping it on the floor.

"Your horns," You say, referring to the paint that is still on them.

"Hm? oh." He starts peeling it off and you cross the small distance to help him with the other one. It's some kind of acrylic or body paint you think because it's peeling off easily in big sections. You freeze when you feel his hand lightly touch your side. "They're...I thought they were part of your costume." He realizes what he's doing and quickly pulls his hand away from one of your nastier scars. You relax a little. He didn't mean to. He was just trying to help you like you were doing with him. "Sorry."

"S'okay. Yeah, they'real. Nobody knows'at on Halloween." Your words are slipping together at points. You hesitate when you pick up his hand and place it back against your side. It's easier than talking about it. You don't want to talk about it, at least not right now. You look away as his fingers run over it. His hands are warm. He rests his palm over it and you let your gaze fall back to see him looking at, but not touching the rest of the scars that litter your torso and arms. He must still be pretty stoned because you can see the way his pupils drift from one to the next. His hand falls away and he stands up, maybe a bit too fast judging by how he loses his footing a little and pulls you into his arms. You flinch. You're not sure how to feel about this. No one has ever expressed concerns over your scars. Very few people have ever seen them to begin with. You hug him back and let your head fall into the crook of his neck. He smells good. "Is this...not now, but would moirails...is this a pile thing?"

"It could be." You hadn't known where to start with that whole thing, but it looks like the universe has chosen for you. It spun the prize wheel of trauma and landed on physical abuse. As good a place as any you guess. You don't really want to let go of him. The contact is amazing, but you need to finish getting into clothes you can sleep in. Reluctantly, you pull away.

"Juss gonna change." You mumble and turn toward your dresser. You grab any old t-shirt and throw it on before looking for a pair of pj pants. You look over your shoulder to see Sollux is turned around facing away from you, then peel off your jeans and leave them where they fall on the floor. Once you manage to get changed without falling over, you tap Sollux on the shoulder and tilt your head in the direction of the bed. That nervous excitement swells in your chest again as you crawl in after him. This time you scoot closer. You tell yourself that you can blame it on the alcohol later, but you know there isn't anyone you need to justify it to besides yourself. He pulls you close, closing the gap between you. A small sharp breath escapes you and you feel yourself go tense before relaxing again.

"Is this okay?" he asks as he backs away a little. Is it? You want to be close, but it makes you anxious. You're far too aware of the way you keep jerking away from him whenever he touches you. It's too much to unpack right now. You don't want to think about it. Instead, you nod your head and settle in beside him.

"Hey, Sollux?" you ask.

"Hm?"

"I had a another question about monorail alignment."

"Go for it." He sounds either very comfortable or very tired. Maybe both. His eyes are nearly shut. If they didn't glow, you'd think they were.

"Do moirails kiss?" This has been a burning question in your mind and you can blame it on drunk Dave later if it blows up in your face.

"Sometimes. Traditionally moirails kiss on the cheek, but nowadays it is mostly preference. Tongue is considered quadrant bleeding though. Only mateth- matesprites and kismeth- kismethth...spades do that." He opens his eyes to look at you with a mischievous smirk. "Why, Dave? Do you want to kiss me?" You have a few options here. You could backpedal wildly and dig yourself into a hole that will only make it harder to kiss him in the future. That is definitely something sober Dave would do. You could be suave as fuck and kiss him now. Ha, no, no you can't. You are barely keeping it together with this middle school bullshit. That leaves you with the third option of a non-committal shrug with an undefined reply of plausible deniability.

"Maybe," you say.

He smiles and lets his eyes fall back to the half-lidded state they were before. “You can if you want to.” The blood rushes straight to your face. Now you’re right back where you were a moment ago, stuck between backpedaling, action, and plausible deniability. That appears to be the theme of the night. It keeps playing in the back of your mind. And ace in the hole. You can just say it was because you were drinking so much. You were leaning on him because you were drunk. You were holding his hand because you were drunk. He was in your bed because you were drunk. You kissed him because you were drunk. But who is this excuse for? You know who it’s for. You’re thousands of miles away and he is still controlling you. He still has you looking over your shoulder. You can’t even say the fear is irrational because you aren’t entirely sure that it's unwarranted. “You’re mumbling under your breath again,” Sollux says softly. Shit, you keep doing that. What even were you saying? How long were you doing that for? Sollux isn’t a complete asshat. He wouldn’t let you do that for long, right?

“Damn it.” Why does this have to be so damn difficult?

“You don’t have to do that now. Whenever.” He is so fucking nice to you. Maybe if you just, maybe if you start somewhere else. Now is the time for ears says your sloshed brain. Ears, yeah, cool. They’re interesting. Different shape. His eyes opened just a bit more as you reach over before closing to slits as you run your fingers over his ear, lightly tracing their shape up around the arch to the tip before coming down the other side and letting your hand rest on his neck. His hair is cut close in the back, but it's long enough that your fingers run through it as you lazily trace your thumb over the more intricate inner cartilage. He turns his head, giving you better access. You guess troll ears are sensitive too, or at the very least it feels nice. You can feel two bumps along the lobe where he has or had them pierced at one point. You wonder why he doesn’t wear them anymore. You think about asking him, but you don’t want to ruin the moment. It’s serene. It’s just you and him alone in the dark, side by side, existing together in a comfortable silence. You need to do it; you need to move. He’s heavily implied that he's waiting for you to make a move. He can see right through you. He knows you’re hesitating for a reason and he’s waiting. Your heart is racing and you let your hand rest on his neck, your thumb brushing his jaw. You move. You tug him forward and thank fuck, the guy can take a hint. He meets you more than halfway. It’s slow and it’s gentle. His lips take yours and you respond in turn, taking his. For a moment you stay like that, close, lips touching lightly, once more, and then you let him go. Your hand slides from his neck down to his collar. The kiss leaves you nervous and excited and relieved as if some invisible hurdle has been cleared. You curl up against him, tucking your head against his chest and letting your arm hang over his side. He's warm, like your own personal space heater. Fingers comb through your hair, tossling it this way and that way in a soothing manner. A much welcomed calming action after working yourself up like that over something so simple. It's also nice in general and Sollux seems to gather that much by the way you're leaning into his touches. It's lulling you to sleep until claws drag up the back of your neck, skittering over sensitive skin. It makes you shiver. You never had this before. Quiet, safe, gentle, intimate touches. It's wonderful and it hurts at the same time. It hurts because having it makes you realize how badly you need it. His hand brushes the shell of your ear as his nails barely make contact with your skin. You can front all you want, but it won't change how isolated and utterly alone you've been. You hold him tighter. He feels safe. You need safe. This is overwhelming. It’s too many feelings and too many things to think about in your current state of mind. Tears sting your eyes. Fuck, no, no, no, don't you dare. You shudder. "Dave?" He sits up slightly on one of his elbows and pulls you from where you're hiding your face. "Hey, what's wrong?" There are soft little worried chirps coming from him that you haven't heard before.

"Shit," you whisper to yourself as you wipe your eyes with the heel of your hand.

"Did I do something?" He sounds so concerned for you and you don't know if that makes it better or worse. You shake your head. Technically it is something he's doing, but that's not what he's asking.

"No, it's..." you shake your head. Where would you even start? No, man, I just have this thing where for the past seven years physical contact has generally meant pain was about to happen? I've never been shown this particular brand of attention and it's freaking me out? Or maybe open up a can of 'you better not be gay' worms? So many choices, terrible terrible choices. "...it's not your fault." You tug on his shirt and he lays next to you again, pulling you close.

“Drank a little much?” He’s giving you an out you think. You nod your head against him.

"Fuckin sloppy with feels."

“I can relate. Like, previouth previously. Not right now. I’m in a fantasth-tic place right now. Whatever Mituna had was some good shit.” You smile against him. Dude is so up there. It doesn't take much convincing to have him playing with your hair again, he seems to be enjoying it as much as you are.

“Yever drink stead of smoking?”

“Can’t. Soporifics make my meds stop working.”

“I thought weed was one a those.”

“People call it that, but it isn't.”

“What’re your meds for?” There is a pause. You guess this is that rabbit hole he was talking about when he called himself messed up.

"Bi-polar disorder." You can feel him anticipating your reaction like he knows a hit is coming.

"Sucks, bro ." You are a poet. Truly. Although your lighthearted reply has him easing back up.

"Only half the time." He's smirking, you just know it. Him and his weird duality. "The other half of the time I'm an unstoppable god of ideas and productivity." His nails skirt your hairline and it makes your shoulders hunch as the sensation trickles over your scalp. "Your neck is really sensitive." He comments.

"Mhm. Feels good." Understatement of the year. It feels really fucking good. He could do this forever and you'd never get enough of it. Eventually, his hand stills and he drapes his arm across you. For a while you lay there with him in the dark, hanging on the edge of sleep, absentmindedly playing with the hem of his shirt. You don't think you've ever been so comfortable. His breath starts drawing deep and even. He's asleep and you're almost out too when you hear the soft faint rumbling from his chest. He's purring.


	11. That Pale Chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a pic for this chapter now
> 
> <https://stubborndodecahedron.tumblr.com/post/184756677558/thedoublepp-commission-for-stubborndodecahedron>

  
==> Dave: Wake up.

There's something special about those brief seconds of semi-consciousness right before you open your eyes. You're warm, comfortable, adrift in your mind without the ties of the real world. It fades all too quickly. Arm. Arm around you. In an instant you are awake. Your breath comes in sharp as you jerk up and back against the headboard. The way you smack into it doesn't help the hangover you're going to be nursing shortly. When your senses return to you, you register that it's Sollux. Sollux is in your bed. That's right, you two were intoxicated as shit last night and...and you asked him to sleep with you- in your bed, you asked him to sleep in your bed with you, and...and you kissed him. You feel your face go hot.

"Murr-rip?" Oh, that's fucking adorable. Sollux makes this sleepy confused sound at your sudden disappearance. You want to crawl right back in, but now that you're awake you are vividly aware of the wicked piss you need to take. You pat his head and he smiles. God, this guy. There is an entire swarm of butterflies in your stomach.

"Back in a sec," You say as you shuffle your way to the bathroom. You catch him burrowing deeper into the blankets as you shut the door. It feels like you pee for forever. This is definitely in your top three longest pees. You actually get bored standing there. When you're finally done in the bathroom you make your way back to the warmth of the bed, crawling under the covers and cozying up against your moirail who moves to pull you close and sprawls out on top of you. You two are a tangle of limbs, (percentage wise, mostly his limbs. He's so lanky.) when you remember that you should probably drink some water and take something for your head.

"ughhh."

"hmmm?"

"Headache. Forgot to get water and pills."

Sollux holds out his arm and a water bottle comes sailing into his hand like he's a god damn Jedi. He didn't even look. His face is still mashed against a pillow, although it is mostly your shoulder that he is using as a pillow. He sets it on the bed and reaches out blindly again, but this time his hand hangs in the air somehow looking confused.

"Desk," You say helpfully. A second later the Excedrin zips into his grasp. He sets that down with the water and goes to pat your head but misses, and wineds up more or less placing his hand over your entire face. Apparently deciding that's close enough, he lifts his hand the most minimal distance possible before letting it come back down and returning his arm to its previous location about 45 degrees to the left of your head. "As cool as that was, I still need to sit up to take these." With great reluctance and a whine, Sollux rolls off of you and takes the blanket with him. You roll your eyes. He comes back your way almost immediately. You can see him in your peripheral vision as you throw back the pills and down some water. He's sitting up and pulling the blanket around himself like a cloak. He blinks rapidly a few times and takes a deep breath.

"So fucking hungover," he mumbles. You set the water down on the nightstand and he's wrapping his arms around you, pulling you back into the blankets the moment you're within his reach. You both fall against the bed in a tangled clump, somehow managing to be mostly aligned with where your pillows have wound up. He presses his forehead to the back of your neck before resting his chin on your shoulder. Maybe it's the lingering laziness or the sense of calm about him, but you're okay with this. You're really okay with this. Right now it's all butterflies in your stomach not tightness in your chest.

"You weren't drinking. How are you hung over?" You ask, trying to look at him.

"Weed hangover. You wake up stupid."

You snort. It has him chuckling at his own comedic timing and you can feel it reverberate through his neck against your shoulder. His arm is trapped under your ribs and has to be about as comfortable for him as it is for you. You shift your weight and pull his arm up so that it goes beneath your head then thread your fingers together, your outstretched arms hanging off the side of the bed. You lean back to look at him. You can't bring yourself to kiss him, but you want to. Lucky for you he has a similar idea and pecks you on the cheek.

"Can you two quit being quite so disgustingly pale? I fear I may get vomit in the cavities your giving me." The both of you startle. Evidently, Sollux didn't know Karkat was here either.

"So, uh, how long exactly have you been here? " you ask, now feeling as though you're in a much more compromising position than you truly are. "I thought you were chillin with Rose and Kanaya for Halloween."

"I was, and longer than you would care to know." he answers.

You purse your lips and nod your head. Well, shit. That's a thing. No undoing that. Time to make it a joke and flip it on him. "I bet you're so scarred for life. Heaven forbid you witness us hold hands or dare I say, embrace, what with your delicate constitution." You put the back of your hand to your forehead like a faint damsel as you mock him. "Oh, Mister Darcy."

"Keep it in your pile, ass wipe," He grumbles as he moves to sit on the edge of the bed and pick up his phone. Hm, what time is it anyway? Your alarm hasn't gone off yet so it can't be that late. You let go of Sollux's hand and reach for your phone on the nightstand. It takes a few tries, but you inch it over until you can pick it up. Sollux sits up and squints at his surroundings before locating his glasses. His brain really must be in slow motion because it takes him a minute before you see his psi flickering over the discarded costume on the floor and shake it until his palmhusk comes free from the pocket.

"Roxy is probably hung over too," he says.

"Group chat?" you ask.

"Seems legit."

turntechGodhead [T G ]. opened memo STRILONDE & CO COLLECTIVE HANGOVER.

twinArmageddons [T A ] responded to memo.  
tipsyGnostalgic [T G ] responded to memo.  
tentacleTherapist [T T ] responded to memo.

T A: so im just & co now huh?

turntechGodhead: i added rose too because why the fuck not she was probably partying it up last night.

T A: that still makes me the & co.

T T: I'll have you know my partying was both elegant and tasteful, and I am only stricken with the most mild of headaches this morning, which may be attributed to the red wine itself rather than its quantity.

turntechGodhead [T G ]. added grimAuxiliatrix [G A ]. to memo STRILONDE & CO COLLECTIVE HANGOVER.

grimAuxiliatrix [G A ] responded to memo.

T G: there.

T G: now theres two of you.

T G: look at that it even satisfies your two kink.

tipsyGnostalgic: thats not his kink.

T G: wonk.

T A: my duality is not a kink.

T A: wow.

turntechGodhead: way to join the convo there roxy.

T G: should we be kink shaming sollux is he secretly depraved?

tipsyGnostalgic: the worst.

T A: what the fuck i am not.

T A: besides i really don't think you should be pointing fingers on this topic.

G A: What Exactly Is Going On Here?

T T: Sollux has made the mistake of becoming romantically involved with two members of "The StriLonde Collective" as we are now apparently going by.

turntechGodhead: i was going for collective hangover but whatever.

G A: I See.

tipsyGnostalgic: hey kanaya.

turntechGodhead: sup welcome to the shit show. are you also rocking a wicked headache?

G A: Hello Roxy.

G A: Hello Dave.

G A: I Persued The Option Of Abstaining From Soporific Beverages The Previous Evening.

G A: I Thought It Best Considering My Work Was On Display And I Desired To Appear Professional Should Anything Arise From It.

T A: thanks for the greeting kanaya i see how it is.

G A: You Did Not Say Hello.

turntechGodhead: shes got you there bro.

tipsyGnostalgic: kanaya you has stuff on display?

T G: *had.

G A: A Select Few Of My More Elaborate Designs Were Being Used In A Window Display At The Art Event We Attended.

T T: When Jade returns to a location with internet access, we should send her some photographs. I think she would find them lovely and charmingly impractical.

turntechGodhead: when is she coming back again?

tipsyGnostalgic: prolly round the holidays.

T T: Roxy is correct. She will be returning to the island for the semester break. I am not certain if this marks the end of her abroad studies or if it is merely an interlude.

T A: who is jade, have i met her?

turntechGodhead: i highly doubt it.

G A: You Have Not.

T T: Jade is a long time internet friend. She lives on a remote island with her brother Jake, who is presently studying at one of the many universities in this region and romantically involved with Dirk.

T G: man its been forever since i talked to her.

T G: you know its also been a while since i talked to egbert.

T G: he hasnt been online for like i dont know a month or something i dont think ive spoken to him since telling him i made it out of texas.

T T: He has been online as often as he normally is. I spoke with him rather recently.

T T: You do have his new chum handle, yes?

T G: that would have been a very key thing for him to give me.

T G: take a guess as to what john may have forgotten to do.

T T: ectoBiologist.

T A: roxy by any chance do you have my weed, it is not in my sylladex.

T G: mhm u left it on the coffee table.

T A: thanks.

T G: whatcha gonna give me to get it back?

T A: fuck you just give it back.

T G: nope.

T G: mine now unless you got somethin to offer.

T A: you don't smoke what are you even going two do with it?

T G: im sure mituna would take it off my hands.

T A: ...

T A: you're despicable.

T G: spade symbol.

turntechGodhead: thats hilarious.

G A: Sollux I Though You Were No Longer Smoking The Human Sopor Plant.

T A: not of my own choice.

T A: it was hard two come by for a while.

G A: I See.

T A: you know it's not actually soporific it doesn't fuck up my meds.

G A: Be That As It May You Know Where I Stand On That Particular Choice Of Yours Given The Circumstances And Context Surrounding It.

T A: can you not?

T A: if you want two harp on me about it again then troll me.

T A: don't bring it up in the memo and then be all cryptic and dodgy about it.

G A: You Are Right.

G A: My Apologies That Was Rude.

G A: I Will Send You A Strongly Worded Message At A Later Time.

turntechGodhead: i feel as tho i may have missed something here.

T T: Kanaya disapproves of Sollux's drug use.

T G: thanks for bringing that to light rose i would have never pieced that puzzle together i would have had to check the back of the book for the answer if it werent for you shining the light on that observation.

T T: Any time.

T A: weed isn't a drug.

tipsyGnostalgic: babe its totally a drug.

T A: okay maybe but it isn't a drug drug.

T A: technically speaking alcohol is way worse for you.

T G: and what is that supposed to mean.

T A: nothing i just, look can we just drop this?

T G: uh huh yeah sure.turntechGodhead

T A: fuck this shit.

twinArmageddons [T A] ceased responding to memo.

You look over at Sollux who is visibly annoyed now.

"What was that about?"

"It's nothing. Kanaya and I just have different opinions, however, she likes to impose her's on me sporadically." You remember Karkat having similar thoughts, but maybe that's because he and Kanaya are moirails so the likelihood of them agreeing with each other is high. They've probably ganged up on Sollux before about this. You can see why he might have been so quick to aggravate. You abandon the memo. You'll close it later. You're about to try to offer Sollux some sort of comfort when the bathroom door opens and Karkat walks out while ruffling his hair with a towel.

"Dave, you better start getting ready soon." Just as Karkat says this your alarm goes off. Sollux slowly turns to look at you. His eyebrows have been devoured by his bangs.

"Fergalicious?" he asks, pointedly blinking once at you.

"If you think that's bad, you should hear some of the other ones. He has different ringtones for every day of the week. Each of them is uniquely awful."

"You know you love them, Karkles." You'd love to say fuck it and stay in bed, but you are presenting your film project today and Karkat would murder you in your sleep if you bailed on him, so you throw back the covers and sluggishly get to your feet. "You can chill here for a bit if you want," you say, looking over your shoulder at Sollux.

"I have class in a few hours. I might as well get up. Plus I could really use some coffee."

"Make sure you eat something too." See? You're getting the hang of this moirail business. You got over that physical contact hurdle, a smidge of feelings were shared, and you're looking out for him. That's pretty good all things considered. You may very well not suck entirely at this.

  
==> Karkat: Present Your Film.

The day of reckoning has come and you are now having second thoughts about this project. You were fueled by spite before, but now that everyone is actually going to see it, you're a bit embarrassed. Dave did assure you that there was a fall back though. There are two classic human media tropes that cover this: dancing with inanimate objects and date practicing with them. You fidget nervously in your chair. Dave looks like he doesn't give a single fuck as your film starts to roll. He's completely composed aside from the slight uptick of the corner of his mouth. Cronus actually did a really good job with this. He's selling it well. It wasn't exactly what you wrote, but you can't complain about his take on it. Oh no here comes the part you were most nervous about. It's really blatant. The swifter. The camera cuts to the wet jet, then to Cronus, then back to the wet jet, then back to Cronus. Off camera, you shoot him with a water gun. A chorus of snickering comes from behind you and you sink a bit lower in your seat. Dave, on the other hand, is soaking it up. There are a few more "dates" in between this and the final one for the purpose of comedic timing. One of which is a shop vac and Dave would not elaborate on why it would be hilarious to put lipstick on the hose, just to trust him. The human portion of the class is now giggling. You can hear more people laughing. You are dying. You are going to die of embarrassment right here in this chair. And there is the mop. It was really hard to make it do a hair flip. You had to do so many takes of that. You never actually show a pail, but its presence is implied. Your film raps up and many people in the class are snickering and whispering to each other. Your teacher looks less than pleased.

"I’ll be speaking with the both of you after class." Your professor says as he looks down at you over his glasses.

"I got it. Don't wanna give us too much praise in front of everyone for our hot take on the mop date. I was thinking about working in some dancing. Some real Gene Kelly shit, but it didn't fit with the camera flow we had going on," Dave rattles off nonchalantly.

"Mister Strider, please get your feet off the chair and watch your mouth. Praise will not be our topic of conversation." Dave removes his feet from the chair of the desk in front of him then, determined not to sit up straight, he stretches out his legs under the chair instead and turns to look at some of your classmates.

"Not to brag, but I thought it was pretty sweet. How 'bout y'all? Pretty bitchin', am I right?" He gets some murmurs of varying opinion, a "right on, man", "I don't get it", "wild", "I'll explain it later" and a "You gonna upload that?".

"Language, Mister Strider. Language. I'll see you and Mister Vantas after class." Oh, you are so fucked.

  
==> Be Dave.

You and Karkat are walking to the cafeteria after speaking with your professor about the nature of your film. Personally, you think it went well. The both of you weaseled your way out of trouble through the power of tv tropes and riding Gene Kelly's mop dancing dick all the way to the bank.

"Dave, if you ever get arrested, I strongly recommend you invoke your right to remain silent," Karkat says.

"Oh come on, it wasn't that bad. We got away with it."

"You are the worst liar I have ever met."

"I have no idea what you are talking about. I bullshitted my way through that flawlessly."

"After I did damage control," Karkat counters.

"So I threatened him a bit, big deal. Besides, you have to admit it was fun to piss him off a bit and most of the class thought it was funny."

"I guess," he gives in with a frustrated sigh. "And the actual shots and editing were alright. It was technically sound." You're coming down the pathway that leads to your dorm and the large grassy area between it, the cafeteria, and the music building when you see a handful of people clustered around. Some kind of shit is going down judging by all the shouting.

"The hell is going on over there?" You wonder out loud.

"Ah fuck, that's Sollux." That gets your attention. You hurry toward the crowd and sure enough, it is Sollux and he looks fucking pissed.

"Holy shit, are you fucking stupid?" He sounds fucking pissed too. His anger is being directed at the older of the two Amporas. Cronus is right in front of him and Eridan is standing off to the side with his arms crossed, tapping his foot like he has better places to be. Behind Sollux you see Kurloz sitting on the ground with a distraught Mituna in his lap. His helmet is off- wow look at that hair, it's almost as bad as Karkat's, and Kurloz is gently petting his head and shooshing him, you guess face paps are not an in-public thing generally. It's jarring to see him like that considering the abrasive demeanor he's had every other time you've been around him. "Just stay the hell away from him!"

"What even is your problem? I mean, aside from all your other problems," Cronus says. "You best cool it, buster. His quadrants don't have a damn thing to do with you."

"They do when you're involved," Sollux snarls.

"What goes on between me n' my kismesis--"

"He's not your gogdamn kismesis! He doesn't remember you! What the fuck don't you get about that?"

You turn to look at Karkat. He seems a little uncertain and looks back at you before returning his attention to the two of them.

"Shut up! I'm so sick of you saying that. He does too remember. Who could forget a guy like me?" Cronus seems oblivious to how arrogant that sounded.

"Him! And even if he did remember you, you're out of your mind if you think anyone who gives a fuck would let you anywhere near him!" Sollux yells without missing a beat.

"I said shut up. Do You have any idea what a man of my class would do if a mustard blood like you spoke to me this way on Alternia?" They are getting closer and closer to each other as they argue and you are starting to think someone ought to step in and that someone might be you. "Glob, you're just as brain damaged as he is!" And with that, any restraint Sollux was exercising snaps. With a crackle of psy-onics, he lunges at Cronus. Shit, you should have intervened sooner. There is no way you're getting in the middle of that without getting mauled.

"Call me a fucking mustard blood again you bottom feeding prick!" He screams at him. You've never seen him bear his teeth like that and quite frankly it's horrifying. He's on top of him and his hand is surrounded in a crackling mess of psi as he tries to sink his claws into the other troll. They're too dull though and while it looks like he gave the guy a good shock, he didn't do much else.

"Fucking pathetic." Sollux goes to hit him again, but Cronus grabs his arm and digs his much sharper nails into it. "but I didn't expect much fight outta someone who's pitch for a human." They rake down his forearm as he twists away and hurls Cronus back with a more painful looking burst of psy-onics that sends him tumbling across the ground and skidding to a stop. You rush over and kneel down next to your moirail, gently taking his arm and pushing aside the torn fabric of his sleeve to peer at the injuries.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," he says, still fuming and clearly not fine, as he brushes you off and gets to his feet.

"You are so not fine."

"Uh, Dave," Karkat says, trying to get your attention, but you're a little preoccupied trying not to think about how many times you've seen this sort of shit in a different color.

"We need to get you cleaned up. These aren't exactly scratches."

"Dave." Karkat's trying to get your attention again, but it's the soft sound of footsteps through the grass behind you and the low growl coming from Sollux that has you spinning around on a dime.

"Fucking try me, bitch," you say as you point at the ticked off looking Ampora doing a shit job of sneaking up behind you. Honestly, you hadn't expected him to actually try. People usually don't try to take a swing at you when you taunt them like that. Fortunately, you're quick. You feel static building behind you, but you've already caught his wrist and are twisting his arm back in a way it isn't supposed to go. It's slowly forcing Cronus to kneel as he makes a stuttering pained noise; you help him along by kicking out the back of his knee. "Say uncle." Your face is expressionless and your voice is empty. You twist his arm sharply.

"Fuck, stop, you're gonna break it."

"Yeah, that's kind of the point. Say uncle." He goes to try and swipe at you with his other arm, but red and blue energy quickly stop him.

"You dick." You aren't sure which one of you he's referring to.

"Say it." You wrench his arm back farther.

"Uncle, uncle!" You let go and he springs away from you cradling his arm.

"Touch him again and I'll break both of them," You say to him despite knowing full well it was Sollux who struck first. Your voice is calm and matter-of-fact in sharp contrast to all the shouting that was previously happening, and it makes the threat carry more weight. He looks back at you sourly over his shoulder as he walks away toward Eridan, who has the look of someone who has been extremely inconvenience and would like to speak with your manager. You turn back to Sollux and expression returns to your face in the form of concern. He now has his arm pressed to his chest, no doubt to stem the bleeding. That hoodie is done for, but better it than him. "Come on," you say softly, putting a hand to his shoulder to try and steer him inside. He goes with it but stops when you are about to pass by Mituna and Kurloz. He has the other Captor scooped up in his arms. Mituna is about the same size as Sollux, a bit bigger, but looks comparatively small against his moirail.

"You okay, Tuna?" he asks as if he's speaking to a child. His brother doesn't look back or say anything, but he gives the okay sign and that seems to be enough for Sollux to continue following you inside. He's quiet after that. The whole way up he keeps his eyes on the floor. You're not sure where Karkat fucked off to, but you imagine he's giving you two some space, so you go to your room instead of Sollux's. His first aid kit isn't as well stocked as yours is anyway. He takes a seat on your bed and carefully peels off the ripped, blood covered hoodie. He almost pulls his arm back to his chest before thinking better of it. Damn, that’s a lot of blood. You grab the kit from under your bed and usher him into the bathroom. He has this lost look on his face like he's deep in thought. You get a better look at the gashes as you rinse his arm off in the sink. They're pretty bad, but nothing you haven't dealt with before. The cuts start bleeding again as you pat the skin dry.

"Sit," you say softly as you motion toward the toilet. You sit on the edge of the tub and put a clean folded up towel under his arm. "Does it hurt yet?" The adrenaline has probably worn off by now. He still doesn't say anything, just nods. His silence is becoming concerning. "This is gonna sting," you warn before you start swabbing antiseptic over the area. You wipe away the excess with a gauze pad and pull a reel of butterfly closures out of the box. One of the cuts will shut fine on its own, and two of them are just long. You push the skin together and place a closure like you have a million times before, first on the one and then on the other. The last two are a little more worse off. "Do you want me to use more closures or stitch it shut for you?"

"What?" Your question shakes him from wherever his mind was. It's only one word, but it's relieving to hear him speak.

"I can stitch these shut for you if you want, or I can shut them with a few of these," you repeat, holding up the strips. The look he gives you is hard to decipher. You think he's thinking about how you acquired that skill. You think he's recalling the scars on your body. You think it might be pity.

"The band-aids are fine. I heal faster than you." Good to know. The gashes take three butterflies each, but you do good work. If he scars, it'll be minimal and even. You clean off his arm again with another swatch of gauze. It was still bleeding while you worked. Now for the wrap. This was always your favorite part, if you could call it that. It was soothing. There was always a certain comfort placing the non-stick squares and winding the soft bandaging around them. "Dave, why do you know how to give stitches?" That's not what he's asking, not exactly.

"Why were you fighting Cronus?" You ask softly. It's a question that you think may be equally as heavy. He looks away and goes quiet again as you clean up. He's cradling his arm and brushing his thumb over the bandage when you hold out your hand for him to take. Your fingers lace together. You lead him back into your room and take a seat on the bed, but he stays standing.

"If I tell you why I was fighting with Cronus, will you tell me about your scars?" Shit, that's pretty intense. He doesn't know that though. Well, he might gather it. Your scars are best described as bad and a lot. But then again, it was dark. He probably didn't see the full extent of it when he was actually paying attention to them. You purse your lips together. "We can...we can make a pile," he says softly. Oh. OH. This is a moirallegiance thing. This is that thing you’re supposed to do. The feelings jam. The healing and self-bettering bit. Lick your wounds together and all that.

"Yeah, okay." You stand up and look around before looking back at him. "How do we do this?" His eyes are still distant, but he smiles.

"Make a pile? You just throw shit on the floor. Whatever you want. Books, blankets, network cables." Of course he would. Nerd.

"I don't have much stuff I'm willing to sit on besides pillows and blankets."

"We can make the pile on the bed," he responds.

"Alright." He squeezes your hand like he knows you're nervous, like he can see right through the blank expression you're hiding behind. The two of you pile your pillows and blankets into the corner of your bed, bunching them up both haphazardly and just so. You kick your shoes off and turn to see him stealing your red hoodie. It's one of two that you live in. On you it’s loose, but it's straight up baggy on him. You need to cram some food into this guy later. You climb up and fall back into the nest you made. It's oddly nice. Sollux climbs in after you. He's laying next to you with his arm back up against his chest. You wonder if it's just self-soothing or if it's really bothering him. You make a note to check the bandages later. Once again you aren't sure what to do with your arms, so you let them rest across your stomach.

"You want me to go first?" he offers.

"Yeah." You're really doing this.

"Cronus used to be Mituna's kismesis, but it was years ago. Mituna doesn't really remember it. He has bits and pieces, he knows who Cronus is, but he doesn't remember what they were. Anything around that time is fuzzy at best." He pauses. Should you ask him about it? Is he waiting for you to ask?

"Why's that?"

"I'm sure you've noticed he isn't all there." You did, but you weren't about to say anything. "He fried part of his brain. It's why his balance is shot, and his psy-onics don't work right, and his mood swings are worse, and he just forgets things, he gets confused, he-" His words get quicker and more pained as he speaks until he abruptly stops. You turn your head to look at him. He's staring up at the ceiling, but he isn't looking at it, he's looking into the past somewhere in his head. You reach out to take his hand in yours. When he speaks again there is more composure to his voice. "He isn't like he used to be, and he never will be again. Kurloz and Latula stuck by him, but Cronus didn't give a fuck. He just disappeared. He didn't visit him in the hospital. He didn't ask if he was okay. He didn't ask if he was ALIVE."

"What a dick." Great contribution, Dave. A+.

"You have no idea. Mituna almost died. As antagonistic and violent as kismesistude is, you aren't supposed to kill your kismesis."

"He tried to kill him?" You sit up a little in surprise. The expression on Sollux's face is a mix of anger and sadness. You want to take it away, but you don't know how.

"I don't know. Shit probably just got out of hand like it usually did with them. I don't have the whole story. No one does because that asshole just left him there and ran off." He's gesturing with his injured arm and winces when he forgets and lets it fall to his side. "Our Lusus found him after he vaporized a large section of the roof. One of the beehouse servers was knocked over. He had so much mind honey in his system."

"Mind honey?"

"It's a byproduct of the beehouse. It'll really fuck you up if you have psy-onics and you ingest it, and to a much lesser extent, it's skin permeable. The more powerful you are the worse it'll be for you. I have to wear gloves, a mask, and goggles when I do physical maintenance on them. It can make you...it forces you to...he didn't mean to put a hole in the roof. There was just nowhere for all the psi to go except out his eyes." His voice is choked. He's looking, but not seeing again. You sit up. What do you do? Whatever he's thinking, whatever he's picturing in his mind, it hurts. Shit, maybe you should have gone first. "Fuck if anyone knows how long he was actually seizing before our lusus found him." This is clearly traumatic for him. How do you deal with that? It's not like you can change it. You don’t know what to say. You don’t know how to make it better.

"Sollux, full disclosure, I don't know what I'm doing here and this is pretty heavy."

He sits up and turns so that you're facing each other. "It's okay." He brushes his fingertips over your cheek and trails them down your neck. It feels good. You let your eyes fall closed and only open them again when he pulls his hand away. You think he means for you to mimic him, but you don't have time to panic over it because he's picking up your hand and bringing it to his face. Shit shit shit fuck shit holy crap fuck fuck fuck. Your brain locks up. He wants you to pap his face, or well, not completely. It's more of a graze than a pap. An intimate gesture of comfort. You swallow hard and regain control of your arm just in time to mirror the movements he made across your skin only a moment before. He keeps his hand lightly on yours, guiding it until he's sure you've got it. Your heart is beating so fast. He closes his eyes as you touch his face ever so faintly, letting your fingers run over his cheek and down to his jaw. There's that tick in the back of your mind and you make an impulsive choice. You lean forward and pull him closer so you can kiss him. It's slow and almost apologetic in how gentle it is. When you break apart you take his hands in yours and rest them between the two of you. You're too nervous to look at him, so you look there instead.

“Lately he’s been harassing Mituna." Sollux finally continues after a silence that seemed to stretch on forever. "He’s convinced they’re still together or something like that. Didn’t hear a damn thing from him while Mituna was recovering, but now all of a sudden here he is. Mituna had to work so fucking hard to get to this point. He still has a ways to go too. He’ll probably always be somewhat incoherent and his vertigo isn’t ever going to go away completely, but he’s getting better with other things. This was his longest streak without a freak out before Cronus started being an entire sack of bulges to him.” 

“I believe it. I was working with him on a project for film class. The guy radiates douchery. An absolute cock wad." You say when Sollux pauses.

“Tch, and that quadrant meddling bullshit." Sollux continues. "Like I’m intruding on something. He nearly killed him. Regardless of quadrants, Mituna’s my littermate, I’m gonna look after him, ya know?”

“Yeah, boy do I know.” You really ought to think before you speak.

“What do you mean?” Answering that question runs so very much deeper than you intended to get into. You were shooting for ‘a brief introduction to my childhood trauma’, not ‘advanced traumatic theory: an in-depth view of my psyche, the unabridged version, volume 3’.

“That’s, that’s like way too far down the line, man,” you say with a slow shake of your head. He brushes his thumb over your skin.

“It’s cool.” That was hella easier than expected. You thought he was going to press for more, but he just let it go. He doesn’t appear to have any more to say about Cronus. The two of you are just sitting there holding each other's hands. "Dave?" Yeah, you had a feeling it was your turn. Geez, where do you start? “What are they from?” You can work with that.

“Strife-ing,” images of the roof come to your mind. You can almost feel the Texas sun beating down on the back of your neck.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but culturally speaking, isn’t that a little extreme for humans?”

“No shit.” There isn't any bite to your voice and the snark rings hollow. “I didn’t realize that for a ridiculously long time. I just thought everybody strifed like that.”

“Strifed like how?” It seems obvious to you, what you’re dancing around, but when you think about it, it’s a valid question. You've been covering it up for so long that your perspective of what's actually telling is skewed. How could he possibly connect the dots? He saw your sword once. Even that doesn’t fully encapsulate it. It scratches the surface, but it doesn’t say anything about the true brutality of it. The drills you had to run over and over and over. How he’d make you and Dirk practice on each other. Sometimes, it was hand to hand combat, but other times he’d make you use your swords, your real swords, not blunt practice ones. And how just when you thought he wasn’t going easy on you, he’d prove you very very wrong. All the injuries you learned to take care of yourself. The mind games. Those even extended beyond the strifes themselves. You were never safe. How do you word all that?

“Swords. Fists.” You don’t know how to say it so you just throw out some words. Maybe it’s better that way. You don’t want to think about this. This is what you're running from. You're running from the fight like a coward, and yet your sword is always in your specibus. You're shitty ones and one of Bro's good ones. You stole it just in case you needed it.

“Those scars are from swords?” He asks like he's hoping he didn't hear you right.

“Yeah.”

"And it was Bro that did that to you? All of that was him?"

"Yeah."

“Why didn’t your guardians do anything about it?”

“He is-- he was my guardian. Not that he really lived up to that title.” Was. He doesn't control you anymore. At least you tell yourself that.

“I thought you said he’s your older older brother?”

“Yeah.” Sollux doesn’t ask the question you can feel hanging in the air. “My parents are dead. I never knew them so it’s whatever. Even Dirk barely remembers them. He just has memories of memories at this point. For me though, it’s always just been Bro.” You end the thought with a shrug.

“I’m getting the impression he wasn’t exactly parent of the year.”

“What could have possibly given you that idea?” He wasn’t always like that. At least you think so. You aren’t sure. The memories are so old that you don’t trust them anymore, but you think he maybe wasn’t always like he is, or at least not as bad. “Yeah, he kind of sucked, but it was tolerable while Dirk was around.” There is the hard click of the lock turning. You panic. You can’t get caught. He can’t find out. You’re scrambling out of the pile without thinking, tumbling to the end of the bed, and just miss smacking your head into one of the bedposts. The door slams shut only a second after it was opened. You can hear muffled sounds of agitation from the other side. Sollux has his hand out. He shut the door on... You cover your face with your hands. Karkat, it’s just Karkat. Right, he lives here, you sexiled...pile..xiled?...expiled?...seems legit, you expiled him from the room.

“I think I’m done,” You say from beneath your hands. Sollux takes your wrist and pulls your hand away, and then pulls you back into the pile.

“Do you want to just stay here for a bit? Contrary to Karkat’s trashy novels, piles aren’t some sort of magical epiphany factory. It’s mostly venting and chilling, or like occasionally immediate conciliatory intervention, but mostly the former.” You nod. This has worn you out a bit. You aren't expecting it when he pulls you down and against him. You make an 'oof' sound when the two of you hit the nest you've made. Your back is against him and his arms are around you. You can feel his breath on the back of your neck. You're careful of his arm as you move to steal his hand and pull it against your chest. You aren't laying there for long before he starts purring. It's right next to your ear and it makes the hair on the back of your neck stand on end, and a shiver run up your scalp similar to the way his nails feel when they do the same. You shudder and crane your neck somewhat involuntarily. "You okay?"

"Yeah. That felt good. You're purring. It does the thing."

"What thing?" His voice does it too when it vibrates just right like that and so close to, but not touching your neck.

"Mmmm. Like when you hear music sometimes and it makes you shiver. It's different though. That doesn't last. This does."

"I don't think trolls have that."

"Really? Sound never feels like when someone runs their nails up your neck?"

"We definitely don't have that."

"That sucks. It's really relaxing. Your voice does it too when you talk low and quiet."

"Like that?" you can hear the smirk in his voice. "Or more like....that?" Your shoulders hunch and you tuck your chin closer to your chest, exposing more of your neck, specifically the area right behind your ear. "Good to know." He appears to be done teasing you and settles back in. The gentle rumble from his throat is lulling you somewhere comfortable and hazy, like the edge of a dream or the split second before consciousness greets you. You don't notice the door open or the footsteps that cross the room. You don't notice anything outside of the pile until several spritzes of water jar you back to the real world.

"Alright, that's enough," Karkat says as he fires the dollar store squirt gun from your project at the two of you. "Go to his room if your gonna do that. I've got shit to do." He sprays the both of you a few more times like disobedient cats before relenting.

"Jeez, I'm up, I'm up." You say shielding yourself from the water. When you think no more is coming you lower your arms and Karkat nails you right in the face. You send Sollux a dramatic look of betrayal when you hear him laugh. You get your revenge when Karkat gets him good in the ear just to even the score.

"I should get going. I've still got homework to do." Sollux says with a stretch. Limbs, he's all limbs. Speaking of which...

"Oh no you don't. We're getting food first."

"That's fair." He doesn't put up a fuss. It must be a while since he last ate. Good call. Karkat groans and rolls his eyes at you both.

"Get out already." He emphasizes the order by shooting at your feet until you actually start making your way out the door.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'm going, I'm going." You call over your shoulder. He's acting like he's mad at you, but you speak Vantas; he isn't actually angry. You can even see a little smirk on his face as he looks over at his best friend, the guy who frequently locks himself away, who now has a fond smile on his face as he pulls up the hood of the sweatshirt he stole from you.


	12. The Talk

  
==> Be Dirk.

If there is one thing you already like about working for the Zahhak’s, it’s that you can wear whatever you want. As far as Equius is concerned, if you aren’t on the floor, you don’t need to meet his already laxed requirements. He’s leading you to the back room workshop where you will be spending the majority of your time. You’re excited to see it, but you keep a neutral face.

“This is the workshop. Please, do not step on Roomba-san,” he says.

“On what?” You Interrupt.

“Roomba-san. It is the autonomous shop vacuum. I did not name it.” He doesn’t elaborate on who did. You look around the floor and find the robot’s docking station by the back door. The roomba looks heavily upgraded to the point where you wonder if it still has any of its original parts. Even some of its casing has clearly been replaced, perhaps to make room for better components. “There is a terminal here for you to use, it should suit your needs. There is no reason to connect your own equipment to my network. That goes for your AI as well. I must insist that you keep him out of my network.” Whoa, hold up, how does he know about Hal?

“My AI?” you ask.

“Do you not have an artificial intelligence on your person?”

“I do. Hal, he modulates my voice for me.” You figure it’s probably better not to lie directly to your new employer.

“It has a proper name and pronouns. Humans will truly bond with anything, even an algorithm,” Equius scoffs.

“I am not an algorithm, thank you very much.” You quickly cover the speaker on your neck.

timaeusTestified [TT] began pestering Auto-Responder [AR]

TT: What are you doing?

AR: He called me an algorithm. It was insulting.

TT: Just deal with it.

AR: I’m sick of “just dealing with it”.

“I deal more in hardware, the main reason I seek your **STRONG** programming skills, but that is not a voice modulator.”

“He is not primarily a voice modulator, no,” you admit.

“A more advanced program, all the more reason not to--”

“I am not a program either.” You pinch the bridge of your nose and shake your head. He is so going to get you fired.

“Is your AI actively rebelling against you?”

“He is based off a brain scan of my thirteen-year-old self and has long since become sentient. He’s not so much rebelling as he is purposefully acting out. He may be going through a phase.” You cave.

AR: This is not a phase, Dirk. It’s who I am.

TT: If you don’t chill out I’m going to take up sign language. I have plenty of people to ask about it.

TT: You know we’re fucked if I don’t get this job, right?

AR: Correction.

AR: You are fucked if you don’t get this job.

“How interesting. Is he sentient by design?” You make a fifty-fifty gesture with your hand. You’re expecting to get fired right about now, but instead, Equius seems oddly not freaked out. “Impressive. Your skills have no doubt become more **ROBUST** and **HONED** since then. Although I must insist that you do not use brain scans or implement sentience into my robots and I will only be paying one of you.”

“I’m going to take a guess that this means I don’t get the wifi password.”

“Absolutely not.”

“It will take me less than a week to crack it.”

“Hal, manners.”

“If you can crack it, then you have proven your **STRENGTH** to have it.” This guy has such a weird obsession with strong things. It’s a strange exception to his reactions. Equius leads you into the center of the workshop and goes over the various equipment and stations. He tells you what you have free access to and what you should ask him or Horrus about before using. To your delight, he says that you are welcome to use the workshop for personal use as long as it is during business hours and with your own materials. You’ve been dying to rebuild Squarewave and Sawtooth. Bro never liked them and eventually used them for target practice. You have digital copies of them, but the pieces themselves have been taking up space in your sylladex for years in hopes that you’d eventually have the means to fix them. They’re pretty messed up, but you’re confident you can get them back together again. You bring your focus back to the task at hand as Equius starts to show you his designs for the hardware you’ll be building brains for. It seems fairly straight forward. His designs aren’t too dissimilar to things you’ve built before. This might wind up being pretty fun. You could really use some of that.

  
==> Be Sollux.

It happened again. It’s been happening more and more. You’re sitting in your room hunched over on the edge of your bed with your arms wrapped around your middle. Your chest feels wrong and your stomach feels weird and you can’t find a position to be in that’s comfortable. You take a deep breath. It feels like your bloodpusher is beating too fast. Why did you even do this? You weren’t even feeling especially bad. You weren’t feeling bad at all actually, but this has become a thing you do. You can excuse it all you want, you can say it relaxes you, you can say it helps you sleep, but this is something you do now. Maybe you’re just doing this too often. You need to step it down a bit. You need to go slower. You’re getting sloppy with it. You keep fucking this up somehow. If you're more careful it'll be fine next time.

Slow deep breaths. You should eat something. That might help. You stand up and make your way to the closet. There isn’t anything substantial here because you neglected to restock since you last noticed and you are still out of pop tarts, the bridge food between snack and meal. The cafeteria isn’t closed yet because you’ve become the type of person to smoke in broad daylight now, but you are definitely not going there like this. That’s just too much. Vending machine it is then, you suppose. You grab some change from the jar on your desk and pull the strings of your sweatshirt to make the hood more snug. The walk down is surreal. You’re almost certain you aren’t walking a straight line. It could be you overthinking it. You are probably overthinking it. The elevator takes you down to the main floor and you make your way to the common area. You avert your eyes from the front desk just in case whoever is there is feeling chatty. Idle conversation is not within your power right now. There are three machines. One has Alternian snacks, one has Earth snacks, and one has drinks. Your preferred flavor of pop tarts is out of stock so you'll have to choose something else. You didn't anticipate that. This wasn't supposed to involve decisions. How long have you been standing here? You don't feel so good. Maybe you should get someone. Maybe something really is-- “Sollux, is notta life or death decision. Juss pick something.” You turn around to see Roxy waiting behind you.

“Oh, hey Roxy. My flavor is out of stock.” Geez, you must be very obviously high. She's giving you that look she gives you when she thinks you're being cute. You were staring into the abyss for a minute there, maybe your tongue was poking out. She walks closer to the vending machine and looks at the selection. They haven’t restocked it for the month yet, so the pickings are slim.

“Hm, well, I could be persuaded, ha, purrrsuaded, to make a trade. I’ve got pop tarts upstairs,” She says as she turns to face you, leaning against the machine. There is only the most minimal of space between you. She pulls your hoodie strings as far as they’ll go, leaving only a portion of the lower half of your face poking out, and giggles.

“Really now? And what exactly do you want to trade for?” You let her finish tying the strings into a neat bow before you undo it and tug at the opening of the hood until you can see again. “Was thinkin fruit snacks, no, gummy grubs. Totes better. I can be like hatuna ma- ...haikuna- ...haiku my tatas.”

“Hakuna Matata?” you ask.

“That’s the bitch.” You feed your coins into the machine and try to make sense of the numbers and letters, triple checking before entering them into the keypad. The machine whirrs and the coil turns, but the snack gets stuck and doesn’t fall down. “Nooooo, my grubs.” Roxy laments, dragging out the 's' in grubs, her face inches from the glass that she’s pressed her hands against. You focus for a second, the only thing you really dislike about weed is that it fucks with your psy-onics, and you need fine motor skills for this. You wrap the snack in red and blue and carefully nudge it free from the coil until It drops into the vending slot with a satisfying thud. Roxy gasps in delight. “You’re a fuckin wizard. Why you even pay for shit?” She is so drunk.

“I do have SOME morals when I'm not hacking the planet."

“Lies.” She grabs the snack and starts to head for the stairs before turning around. “I came down here for somethin.” You shrug. Consulting you about anything that happened more than five minutes ago isn’t going to go over well right now. You’re a little preoccupied trying to breathe like a normal troll being. Also, like, fairly high. You wish you’d come down a bit. Maybe you should eat some-- right, that is why you’re down here.

“Drink?” You suggest. She’s been staring up at the ceiling with her hand on her mouth. At your input, she looks to you and snaps her fingers before pointing and going to the drink machine. It has a lot of really odd flavors. The one she gets is bright yellow. You’ve tried it before. It has a ridiculous amount of sugar in it and tastes like liquid bubblegum. Soda in hand, the two of you make your way back upstairs and go to her room. Just being around someone is helping keep you level. You were contemplating running to Dave or Karkat before, but Roxy is by far the better option. She won’t reed you the riot act if you start acting weird. Karkat would for sure lecture you and Dave would be worried. Roxy on the other hand, you’ve held back her hair while she puked up a drink appropriately called a trash can. She is going to be the last person to judge you. She might make fun of you and tell you that you ought to know better, but she’s not going to launch into a speech about your habits. Plus, if something really were wrong, she’d help you, and that eases your anxiety. When you walk in her room she goes straight to her snack drawer, fishes out a pack of smores pop tarts for you, and chucks them in your direction. Not your favorite, but a close second.

“Hey, didja hear ‘bout the tournament coming up?” She asks as she takes a seat on the floor and opens up her laptop. You join her there leaning back against the bed.

“For which game?” You tear into the packaging and get crumbs all over you. Roxy dangles a gummy grub above her mouth and drops it in like the character she’s pretending to be.

“That battle royal one. Uh, what was the name? It’s the Alternian one.” She means it’s in Alternian, not from Alternia. Connecting to an actual Alternian server would not only be beyond difficult, but it would also be very stupid. “Wait, I got this, it’s...it’s…”

“Kill Each Other.” You spoil it for her and cram some pop tart in your mouth as she gives you a good shove.

“I had it. It was on the tip of my tongue, you ass.”

“Eh heh heh heh.” You focus on the food thing while she brings up the info on her laptop. The qualifying matches to weed out the weak are coming up soon. Those are all online. Almost all the rounds are. Only the finals are actually in person. “Are all the characters valid for the tournament?” You’ve played the game a few times and know that some of the characters are a tad overpowered.

“Yeah, but it looks like there’s a’official patch to nerf some’these.” You have a decent idea of which characters it targets.

“Good, maybe less people will play as Helmjob.” Needless to say, you are not fond of that character even if he can disable mechs. He has some half-ass back story that is supposed to justify it, but the character still gets backlash from a lot of people, yourself included. “Did they ruin the other psy-onic?” You like that one better anyway. She plays like the biotics from mass effect.

“Nah, you good.” She scrolls down a bit further and throws her fists up in victory. “Yessss, they fixed Calamity’s cooldown issue. Deff gonna use her now instead of Ahab.”

“You would have used her anyway and you know it.”

“She’s a total babe.”

“You're so horny on main for her.”

“Shut your face, my lust’is soooo valid. She’as’a sniper rifle an’a sword, and prac-tal clothes. What more could you want?”

“For starters, shields.”

“Don’t get hit. Boom. Problem solved.”

She’s delving deeper into the specifics of it, rules, point systems, the new patch balancing, when and where the final match is because you both know you’re getting there. By the time she’s hashed everything out, you’re out of pop tart and thirsty as all hell. “Hey Roxy, where’s your water?”

“ ‘Mm all out, but there’s a mug on the desk.” You unfold your limbs and push yourself up off the floor with one hand on the bed. The mug in question has a cat face on it and the handle is meant to look like a tail. Nepeta probably loves it. On your way to the sink, you see that she has a matching one. When you get back, Roxy has a bag of pretzels next to her and you are quick to steal some. Your palm husk buzzes and you pull it out to see that Karkat is trolling you.

carcinoGeneticist [C G]. began trolling twinArmageddons [T A].

C G: YOUR MOIRAIL IS ASKING ME WEIRD QUESTIONS.

T A: define weird.

C G: HE ASKED ME ABOUT THE RESONANCE OF PURRING AND ABOUT THE FREQUENCIES OF WHEN OUR VOICES DO “THE DOUBLE THING”.

C G: ANY THOUGHTS ON THIS AUDITORY BASED LINE OF QUESTIONING I’M BEING SUBJECTED TO?

T A: i may have an idea of why he is asking you that.

T A: a theory if you will.

C G: DO ENLIGHTEN ME.

T A: i’m sure in your musings somewhere you have it noted that humans really like two have their hair played with two a ridiculous degree like some kind of bark or meow beast.

C G: IT HAS BEEN COVERED IN SEVERAL MUSING SESSIONS MUCH TO THE DELIGHT OF MY CO-AUTHOR AND HER HYPERFIXATION.

T A: cool.

T A: i could be wrong, but i think dave has wildly good hearing, and his neck seems pretty sensitive, so my user experience may not be typical.

C G: OH PLEASE DO GO ON ABOUT YOUR MOIRAIL'S EROGENOUS ZONES. I AM JUST DYING TO KNOW WHAT SENSATIONS DAVE FINDS PLEASING.

T A: wow.

T A: how about we don't call them that.

T A: anyway he was telling me while we were in the pile that the sound feels nice.

T A: he said that the sound sometimes made it feel like nails running over his scalp.

C G: WAIT SO HE MEANS IT PHYSICALLY FEELS LIKE THAT? LIKE SOME KIND OF SYNESTHESIA RESPONSE?

T A: i didn't interrogate him about it.

T A: i was a little busy at the time stupefying him with these newfound powers because i'm hopelessly pale and you freaked him out by walking in on us.

C G: FIRST OF ALL, NOT MY FAULT. YOU WERE IN *MY* ROOM. SECONDLY, YOU REALLY ARE. AND ALL THESE YEARS YOU'VE BEEN TEASING *ME* ABOUT BEING A HOPELESS ROMANTIC. YOU TWO HAVE BEEN CONNECTED AT THE HIP. EVEN WHEN YOU AREN’T DOING SHIT, THERE YOU ARE IN MY ROOM, SOMETIMES NOT EVEN DOING THE SAME ACTIVITIES, JUST THERE.

C G: BUT BACK TO HIS WEIRD HUMAN PALE THING. WERE YOU REALLY ABLE TO PACIFY HIM WITH YOUR VOICE?

T A: i did try the voice thing and that yielded an interesting response that i will definitely mess with or exploit later but what liquified his brain was my purring.

C G: HMM I DON'T THINK I KNOW ANY OTHER TROLLS WITH A HUMAN MOIRAIL. AT LEAST NOT WELL ENOUGH TO COMPARE FINDINGS.

T A: if it aids in your obsessive research it would appear that the effect is linked to proximity.

C G: HE'S MUMBLING AGAIN. SOMETHING ABOUT FRISSON. WHAT THE HELL IS FRISSON?

T A: i can look into it later if you want.

C G: IT COULD BE AN INTERESTING ADDITION TO THE MUSINGS. AS FAR AS I KNOW, HUMANS DON'T HAVE A PACIFICATION FUNCTION ON PARR WITH SHOOSH PAPS.

T A: have you checked reddit?

T A: there is no way there isn't a subreddit for this.

C G: I DON'T KNOW HOW REDDIT WORKS AND AT THIS POINT I'M AFRAID TO ASK.

T A: how are you of all people not on reddit?

T A: whatever i'll check for you.

T A: talk two you later i'm chilling with roxy.

C G: GROSS.

T A: screw you

twinArmageddons [T A]. ceased trolling carcinoGeneticist [C G.]

You look up from your phone and see Roxy throwing back something out of a plain silver flask. She used to have a nicer one, but she lost it a while back during the summer. “Messaging Dave?” She teases. The flask goes back in her sylladex, followed by her laptop, and she takes to lying on the floor.

“Karkat. It was about Dave though.” You join Roxy on the floor. “He's asking him weird questions and Karkat wanted to know what was up with it.” Ugh, maybe the floor was a bad idea. Yeah, no, this feels bad. You put your hand to your chest and sit up. There is a pang somewhere around your sternum and you take a deep breath.

“You good?” She asks. You nod. You're fine. Totally. "What is that, like twice this week?" It's the third time, but she doesn't need to know that.

"Yeah."

"How're you fucking that up sbad?" she asks. You shrug. You really have no idea how you keep managing this. You don’t think you’re doing anything different. You’ve smoked this regularly before...well maybe not every day for such an extended period. That is a little new. You remember when this used to be a weekend thing. That might need to happen again. "You needa lay off that shit for a while, Sol. Is a bit counterproductive if it juss makes you feel like shit half the time." She is totally right, but you aren’t going to give her the satisfaction.

"Like you're one to talk."

"Hey, I'm not the one sitting on the floor breathing funny!"

"Mhm, because your floor activity of choice is blacking out."

"Oh, there's plenty a other things I'd rather be doing on this floor." She looks pointedly at you. That was a low blow and you know she knows it, but she isn't backing down on it.

"Fuck off."

"You fuck off, iss my room." You sigh and lean to rest your forearms on your knees. This argument too quickly became stupid so you let her have the last word. You do not, however, 'fuck off'. You stay very much put. “So what weird shit was Dave askin' ‘bout? Can I shame him?.”

“Just about pale stuff, but like, human-troll specific. Karkat is kind of the go-to for that,” you say with only a little bit of lingering annoyance.

“I dunno, Nep may’ve beena better choice.”

“Oh gog no, Nepeta does not need to be up in my love life any more than she is. I know you two talk about me.”

“Me? Never.” Roxy says, poorly feigning innocence. There is a long pause in your conversation and you start to think about ways to start it up again, because it was pleasantly distracting, until she sits up on her elbows. “Hey, Sol?” Her voice is suddenly quieter.

“Hm?”

“I’mma throw up.” You get to your feet and help her to hers. “Come keep me company.” She didn’t have to ask, you were going to anyway.

“That was the plan,” You say, following her to the bathroom. You steal a hair tie off of Nepeta’s dresser as you pass by it and hand it to Roxy so she can pull her hair back and out of the way. It should probably concern you how normal this is, but she has her vices and you have yours. You chill in the empty tub while she does her thing. The slightly reclined angle is perfect and you find yourself feeling a bit better. You can't remember when you started feeling guilty about this. However, you do remember when you became very aware of just how guilty you feel about it. You threw out the excuse that he was too fucked up already at the time, but there is no fucking way you're letting Dave try this. You would hate yourself even more than you usually do if this happened to Dave because of you. Damn it, you have a problem, don't you? You look over at Roxy. You wonder if she thinks that. It doesn't really matter. You're going to do it again because you can’t help yourself and because part of you is still convinced you can be more reasonable about it. That, and at the end of the day, you're always each other's go-to for getting fucked up. There is something special about it. You don’t want to lose that.

When Roxy’s done she comes to sit by you, leaning against the tub, letting her head fall back against the rim. “Sollux, it wassa real dick moova me.”

“What was?” you ask.

“When I said bout the floor, bout doing you on the floor,” there is a small laugh before her expression returns to one of remorse. “Was mean. I know you’re working through some shit.” You hadn’t expected her to apologize, but you’re glad she did. The two of you are usually pretty good about not stepping over lines when you bicker.

“Thanks.”

“I know you don’t wanna get into it, and I don’t want you to cuz’that’s Dave’s turf, but like…” she pauses like she’s trying to remember where she was going with this. “...like you do want to touch me right? Is, not me?” You hang your arm over the edge of the tub, tap her arm, and make a grabby gesture with your hand. Her head lolls to the side as she reaches up to take your wrist as you take hers, and you can better see her face. She’s heading into sad-drunk territory. It’s usually shortly after this that she’s messaging Dirk. You wonder if they know that they are basically moirails.

“It’s not you, Roxy. I do want to touch you, so badly. I’ve thought about it--,”

“In a sexy way?” she interrupts with a devious smile. You chuckle.

“Sometimes.” This time it’s you pausing to remember where you were going with this. “There’s just...something happened to me and--” She whips around to face you with a look on her face that tells you that you could have worded that better because now she’s thinking the worst, because of course she is.

“M’sorry, I thought that was maybe--” She looks like she’s going to cry.

“No, no, Roxy, no, not that.” she settles down a bit and you watch relief turn to confusion on her face; she’s an open book when she’s this drunk. “Nobody did anything...in that way...without asking...it’s just…” You can’t tell her and you can’t think of a way to tell her without actually telling her. “It’s complicated and I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t even know if I can talk to Dave about it.” It is definitely something that has crossed your mind, but you’re moirallegiance is too new and Dave is too inexperienced to handle something like that. You don’t want to scare him off. He hasn’t seen you at your worst yet. He’s seen you depressed, sure, but not in a full-blown episode. You’ve been pretty good about keeping that in check. That’s kind of been the whole point of smoking. Or at least it was originally. It was a way to safely bring you back down from mania and to keep you floating when you were about to sink into a depressive episode. It actually started because of the mania. The first one after you got out of the hospital and refused to go back. Karkat was a hot second away from having you committed, but Mituna shared his weed with you to keep you out of there. Which he really really isn’t supposed to do because it is grounds to get his license for it revoked, but who is going to check anyway as long as he buys a consistent amount. You got lost in your thoughts and resurface to Roxy jostling your arm. It makes you jump.

“Welcome back,” She says, looking back at you from where she has returned to leaning against the tub.

“Yeah.”

“Are you ‘n Dave going to blend?” The question feels sudden, but maybe you missed the segway while you were thinking.

“Quadrants?”

“No, fruit smoothies. Yes, quadrantsss.”

“I don’t know. I haven’t talked to him about that yet. We’ve only been going out for...ummm…less then a month or something.”

You had actually forgotten about that. Dave is human and humans are usually monogamous. Then again, he might not consider moirallegiance to be in the same category as being his boyfriend. That thought sends a pang through you. You hope he doesn’t think lesser about how you feel about him. You have a lot of feelings about him. However, if he does see you that way, like a boyfriend, then he more than likely will want to blur into the red quadrant. The same quadrant that you and Roxy frequently occupy, because let’s face it, you don’t so much flip as you let her take up both. Heh, she has two of your quadrants. Of course. Regardless, you’re still going to call her your kismesis no matter what. But as for Dave, you’re not sure how you feel about being physical with him in a sexual way versus a sensual way.

“Can you lemme know when ya know?”

“Yeah….what if he does?”

She shrugs. “ ’s only fair.”

“It really isn’t.”

“No, but like...it is. Dave doesn’t know dick ‘bout quadrants.”

“He plays dumb, but I’m pretty sure that’s mostly to piss off Karkat,” you counter.

“You guys’re good for each other. I can deal. Is not THAT weird.” You’re about to continue to argue that, traditionally speaking, he has to get her expressed consent for this, but then again, technically the quadrant you two would be hypothetically blurring into isn’t hers. So, she is kind of right. “I call first dibs though.”

“Dibs on what?”

“Railing you sgood you forget your name.” The things that fly out of her mouth. You love it. It has you cracking up and your laughter makes her laugh too.

  
==> Be Dave.

turntechGodhead [T G]. has added ectoBiologist [E B]. to their chumroll.

turntechGodhead [T G]. began pestering ectoBiologist [E B].

T G: john what the fuck.

T G: i thought we had something special.

E B: whoops.

E B: really i thought i gave you my new handle.

E B: so, how has school been over there with our east coast friends?

T G: its been an interesting couple of months. 

T G: all kinds of different than what im used to in all the best of ways and it.

T G: whoa wait hal are you filtering egberts new handle?

A R: Yes, Dave. There was a 100% chance you would contact him at some point in the near future, so I preemptively reestablished the encrypted connection with his new user information.

T G: jeegus okay so now that im done shitting myself over here.

E B: hey, hal!

A R: Hello, John. You should really clear your browser history.

T G: dude its not like youre gonna bookmark it just use incognito mode.

E B: there is nothing in my history like that, hal. quit implying i'm not smart enough to hide my excellent taste in pornography.

T G: anyway.

A R: It's furry porn.

E B: gross no way. it is not furry porn.

T G: **ANYWAY.**

A R: My mistake, I believe the correct term for the reptilian variant is scalie.

E B: i am not into cartoon animals. i have standards.

T G: well i guess were talking about johns porn habits now cause thats exactly how i pictured catching up with my best friend would be yep.

T G: i dont know man i hear there is big money in those furry commissions and you dont make those dolla dolla bills that cash money on substandard fetish art.

A R: You would be surprised what people will pay for.

T G: how the hell would you know.

T G: **DO NOT ANSWER THAT.**

E B: didn't Dirk used to do art commissions?

T G: i have lost control of this conversation im tapping out have fun talking with dirty circuits over here.

E B: no wait!

E B: hal, fuck off and let me catch up with dave.

A R: Well, since you asked so nicely.

E B: so what were you saying before?

T G: fuck if i know.

E B: uh, you were saying something about it being better?

T G: yeah it is hells of different but in a good way like this whole in person friendship thing with multiple people is blowing my goddamn mind.

T G: i hung out with geez what was it 6 people on halloween and we were just chillin in this juggalos house getting trashed and playing mario party and then went to an arcade.

T G: stupid amounts of normal.

E B: you're hanging out with juggalos?

T G: not directly.

T G: sollux's brothers monorail is one of those clown religion trolls.

E B: that's roxy's boyfriend right?

T G: nah theyre all spadesy.

E B: right, i think i remember her mentioning that. i don't know how she does that. i couldn't do quadrants. dating someone who is also dating someone else is so weird.

T G: eh its not that weird plus allspice is barely a romantic thing and monorail alignment is way different than hate dating.

E B: wow when did you become a quadrant expert?

T G: im going to place the blame firmly on my roommate he never shuts the fuck up about all this quadrant stuff and is always picking a romcom on movie night.

E B: hahaha you and your roommate have movie night?

T G: what no its a group thing with us roxy nepeta and sollux.

T G: nepeta is roxys room mate.

E B: oh, that's pretty cool actually. i'm glad you get along with your roommate. mine is okay but we don't really have any similar interests. he's super into that fiduspawn game and plays d&d. he will go on and on about the campaigns sometimes though and it's super annoying, but he's always saying what low self-esteem he has so i just let him talk.

E B: oh he also raps...badly. it makes your stuff sound good.

T G: are you implying that my raps are not in fact the most sicknasty shit that has ever graced your ears.

E B: well...

T G: ive got assloads of fans you know its a burden really i can barely walk down the street without people prostrating before me.

E B: what a cross to bear.

T G: damn straight skippy.

T G: hold up rose is messaging me.

  
tentacleTherapist [T T]. began pestering turntechGodhead [T G].

T T: So, I heard from Kanaya that you and Sollux had some pile time.

T G: that gossipy bitch.

T T: I'll thank you kindly to not refer to my girlfriend as a bitch.

T G: i was referring to karkat.

T G: wow rose do you really think i would ever call kanaya a bitch.

T T: I'll admit I was a bit taken aback by it, but let us not get distracted from the topic of you, your moirail, and your progress embracing this thing we call emotions.

T G: i believe they are pronounced emojis.

T T: In all seriousness, has this moirail arrangement been beneficial to you? It would be foolish of me to think that your coming up here would erase all you've been through, and the idea of you having a stronger support network is reassuring.

T T: No offense to Dirk. He has made a lot of progress.

T T: Additionally, I am certain you're tired of me digging around in your brain. I'll give someone else a turn.

T G: but youre so good at finding and pointing out the sheer capacity my mind has for dick references.

T G: and who could even come close to the way you keep finding new and more creative ways to trap me in horrifyingly freudian rambling loops.

T T: I am a difficult act to follow, but I have a fair quantity of confidence in Sollux. Kanaya says he has experience with feelings but won't elaborate on it.

T G: hes bipolar.

T T: I see.

T T: So you two have indeed been sharing. Surely you returned his gesture and held yourself equally vulnerable.

T G: hold on john is blowing me up.

  


E B: daaaaave.

E B: daaaaaaaave.

E B: pause your one-sided therapy session. i have class soon.

T G: why on earth would you take a saturday class that is practically sacrilegious.

E B: it was the only slot left and the class is mandatory. I would have waited on it, but i've heard that the teacher who does the spring semester is a real hard ass.

T G: ill let it slide this time but dont let me catch you sullying the good name of saturday again after all its done for you growing up in the mythical land of suburbia.

E B: anyhoo, oh hey, have you met rose in person yet?

T G: yeah shes at a different school but her girlfriend is my roommates moirail so i tagged along when he went down to see her.

T G: how long till you have class.

T G: shes messaging me again and there is nothing juicier than romantic pursuits for her to pick apart my brain with lets bet on how many times i incriminate myself.

E B: romantic pursuits? did you finally get a girlfriend?

  


T G:rose i fucked up.

T T: What could you have possibly done in the sixty seconds since we last spoke?

T G: what i do best.

T G: opened my damn mouth and stuck my foot waaaay the fuck on in there just kept cramming it down until i kicked my own ass.

T T: How very descriptive, however, I will need a less vague elaboration.

T G: i was mocking you no offense and mentioned how you have your psychobabble talons in my love life.

T T: None taken.

T T: How did John reply that leads you to believe that you have fucked up?

T G: he asked if i finally had a girlfriend.

T T: That's it?

T G: what do you mean thats it.

T G: you know how john is.

T G: hes firmly situated inside that average box.

T T: He didn't seem to have a problem with me dating Kanaya. What makes you think he would have a problem with you dating Sollux?

T G: i dont know we used to rip on each other so much about being gay and i know he doesnt have a problem with it exactly its more like he just cant see the scope of shit.

T G: this would be so much easier if i were gay because thats easy to explain thats a one-word answer that people know what its about done and done but no my deal has to be way the fuck out there.

T T: I've told you before that there is a word for that.

T G: yeah and nobody knows what that is so ill just wind up explaining it anyway.

T G: man hes messaging me.

T G: im really not feeling this conversation thats about to happen.

T G: oh sweet problem solved he logged off.

T T: Ah yes, because him logging off completely erases the existence of that conversation and you will never have to confront it in the future.

T T: Perhaps you should have this conversation with Sollux first now that the opportunity to do so has presented itself.

T G: i guess.

T G: later though.

T G: hows your gay wizard fiction coming along?

T T: I've been revising the first half of the rough draft and making a lot of changes. Over the course of writing it, I've had a wealth of new ideas for the plot as well as some more minor additions.

T G: im all ears.

T G: just call me fucking dumbo.

T G: lay those gay wizards on me.

T G: no homo.

  
==> Sollux: Sober up with some coffee.

You've reached a state of sobriety that has enabled you to retrieve coffee from the cafe and now find yourself gently touching down on the roof. You sit in your usual spot and think about the conversation you had with Roxy not long ago before you left her with Nepeta. You should probably have that talk with Dave soon. You haven’t been going out for long, but maybe it’s better to have that conversation sooner than later. What if he wants more than you can give him? You’re already hopelessly attached, but if worse came to worst, better now than later.

twinArmageddons [T A]. began trolling turntechGodhead [T G].

T A: hey.

T G: sup.

T A: are you busy?

T G: not really rose is just telling me about her gay wizard novel that will doubtlessly be the focus of a book burning one day.

T G: its actually a goal of hers.

T A: do you have a minute to talk about something?

T G: um yeah sure is something up.

T A: sort of.

T G: should i come up there?

T A: maybe.

T A: this may be easier this way thought.

T G: well thats not a concerning statement at all i feel so assured about the conversation that is about to unfold.

T A: your call.

He doesn’t answer for a while and you’re starting to get concerned until you hear him coming up the ladder. He has that forced, completely blank expression on his face that you know means he’s hiding something. He sits down next to you, but with enough distance between you so that you aren’t touching, and his hands are jammed into his hoodie. He seems stiff and nervous, and you really can’t blame him for it. The only way it could have sounded worse was if you said ‘we need to talk’. “So, what’s up?” he asks.

“I was talking to Roxy before and she brought something up,” you say, keeping your gaze locked on the coffee cup in your hands. “I hadn’t given it much thought, and I probably should have.” You turn the cup in your hands. “At some point, you’re probably going to...I mean...unless you intend to...humans don’t usually do quadrants, but they usually take trolls as matesprites if they do date them, but we’re moirails, and I don’t know how you see that or if you intend to date someone else too or--”

“Whoa wait, hold up,” he says, placing a hand on your shoulder. You were starting to ramble a bit fast there, weren’t you? “What’s this all about?” You take a deep breath and exhale.

“Moirails don’t do sexual things unless they’re blurring quadrants.”

“And?”

“And I don’t know if you assumed we were going to do that or not. Roxy also wanted to know.”

“Oh.” He lets his hand fall away and puts it back in his hoodie. “Is that something that weirds you out or was it something you wanted to do?” He doesn’t look at you when he asks. Not that you’re looking at him either, but you can tell he’s looking straight ahead from your view of him in your peripheral vision.

“I don’t know if I want that. It’s complicated.”

“Same.” His answer surprises you and has you looking up at him.

“What do you mean?”

“What do **YOU** mean?”

“I asked you first.”

“Well, I asked you second.”

“That's a really complicated issue and it isn’t something I’m ready to talk about.” He softens at your blunt honesty and turns to look at you.

“I’m going to preface this by saying I absolutely loathe this conversation. Not our conversation specifically. I loathe the words about to leave my mouth. I’ve had this conversation once in real life, but waaaay too many times in my head. I fucking hate it.” You really aren’t sure what to think about that. You fiddle with your coffee cup. “Okay, so, uggh, human sexuality is all a huge pile of shit. It’s not so simple or absolute as a lot of people think it is, or **ACTIVELY** think it is, or maybe it is for them, I don’t know. A lot of junk about the subject gets shoved into our brains from movies and stuff while we’re just dumb kids.”

“What are you saying?” you ask when Dave comes to a pause.

“I guess what I’m saying is, okay so trolls it’s pretty much a free for all, so I’m guessing you haven’t spent much time thinking about this for different reasons, but for humans there is this assumed default that really isn’t a default, and this mindset that if you even think about peeking behind the curtain it’s already too late. Even then though the media likes to slot every fucking thing into this neat little box that you can check off, put a nice neat little label on there and call it a day, super convenient, don’t have to explain a damn thing when people ask, and that’s cool and all if you fit real snug in there. My brother is firmly seated in the gay zone, a regular no girls allowed club, two dudes sitting in a hot tub right the hell next to each other because they’re gay as fuck, but…” Dave takes his hands out of his hoodie to let them hang in the air before dropping to his sides. “It isn’t that simple, or maybe I’m just weird or messed up, I sure as shit have the experiences to justify it, who knows. I just figure the entire porn industry can’t be thriving on irony alone.”

You set your coffee aside somewhere way off to your right where you won’t knock it over and turn to give Dave your full attention. “I’m still not sure exactly what you’re getting at.” 

“Right, okay, look, so when you look at Roxy, you think she’s hot right? That’s one of the primary reasons you’re with her,” Dave asks.

“Well, yeah, I find her attractive for more reasons than that, but I do think she’s hot.”

“I don’t. I mean, not Roxy specifically. God damn it. I don’t think of anyone that way. I don’t know what that is.” You aren’t exactly a scholar in human sexuality, but you’ve sat through enough of Karkat’s extended rambling theories that you think you’ve got this one. This whole quadrant blurring thing might not be a problem after all. Then again, if you’re right, this would completely eliminate the faint thought that you might be able to work through certain things with Dave in a more delicate way than you could with Roxy. You aren’t even sure if you want that, but it was nice to have the option theoretically present.

“So you’re asexual?” you ask.

He sighs deeply and hides his face in his hands. “No.” Well, so much for that. You’re back to square one. “It’s not that simple. Shit okay. We’re gonna get real TMI up in here. There’s no way around it, no going back now, we’ve gone too far. The radio star is dead in an alley, shot point blank by Viacom.” You don’t catch that reference and don’t ask because knowing Dave it may not be entirely relevant anyway. He picks his head up just enough to look at you from the corner of his eye before hiding his face again. You see the slightest of twitches in his posture. He’s hesitating you think. You scoot closer to him, figuring he can always move away or tell you to back off if that wasn’t actually what he wanted. He doesn’t though, instead, he leans against you. “I’m not some celibate weirdo eunuch. My dick sees action. My imagination is active and present, and not just on special occasions. There’s a drive there, just not in response to tits and ass, or whatever. What are people into, ab's? I don’t know. That’s not to say I don’t have aesthetic preferences. You aren’t hard to look at by a long shot. I would even go so far as to say easy on the eyes. But appearance isn’t what I think about when I’m having some me time. The compass that is my libido does not point north, it only points at, shit I don’t know, it’s Jack Sparrow’s compass. My dick has the directional sense of Jack Sparrow’s compass.”

“CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow.” you correct.

“That is the best fucking way you could have possibly reacted to that. Super appreciate how you completely ignored what I implied there.” It takes you a second, and honestly if he hadn’t said anything you probably wouldn’t have noticed, and even now you aren’t sure if he really meant it or if it only accidentally came off like a vague admission of thinking about you in a particular fashion. “Anyway, back to my dick. It may not know what hot is, but I'm still attracted to people, just selectively, and in a different way that I can’t describe because I lack a frame of reference to do so. It’s like someone who’s colorblind and can kind of see red but not really. They know their red isn’t red red. It’s still red, but they can’t tell you why it’s different because they can’t perceive what they’re comparing it to. On top of that mountain of crap, I don’t know exactly how much of that I actually want versus how much is just fun to think about.” A smile threatens your face, but you're going to play this straight because you're an asshole. Thank you Karkat.

“So, you’re demisexual.”

“WHAT!?” He immediately pulls away from you, making full eye contact (you assume) with the most incredulous look on his face, before standing up and wandering in circles with his hands on his head. “Oh my fuck. Are you serious? Do you mean to tell me--? who--? how-- ? Did I just completely humiliate myself for nothing? I could have said two god damn words and you would have been like ‘Cool story, bro. Let’s just put each other on a soft maybe’? Are you kidding me? Rose will never let me liv this down. You just airdropped enough ammunition to last her for years, maybe even the rest of my natural life. She’s now captain of the s.s. 'I told you so' with full clearance from the president to shoot my plane down. Thanks, Obama.” You know most if not all of this is rhetorical, but you feel the need to have some kind of response.

“You do know Karkat is my best friend right?”

Dave makes an unintelligible noise of frustration.

“I mean, I’ve tuned out about eighty percent of it, but I do sometimes pay attention. With all his fascination with quadrants and interpersonal bullshit do you really think he would have missed moirallegiance compatible sexualities? Honestly, I have no idea why he isn't majoring in some sort of humanities thing.” 

“This is who I am, my modus operandi, I am a one-man verbal slapstick routine of hilarious self-incrimination and embarrassing admissions.” Dave finally stops circling the roof only to lie face down on it. “I’m just gonna stay here for a while on the ground, don’t mind me.” You roll your eyes and make your way over to him.

“Dave,” you say, giving him a nudge with your foot. “Dave, come on. It wasn’t that bad.”

“It was the worst.” he says.

“You’re being dramatic.”

“I don’t know, man. This seems like a perfectly valid reaction to me.” You sigh and lie down on the roof next to him.

“Look what you’ve made me do. I’ve stooped to your level,” you say, nudging him again. He picks his head up to look at you. You give his sleeve a tug, then a harder tug, and he scoots over like it’s some big effort before cozying up to your side. “Roxy wanted to know. What do you want me to tell her?”

“Whatever,” he says with a shrug. “As long as you make me sound at least fifty percent less pathetic.” The word has an odd amount of bite to it when he says it.

“How about just the soft maybe part?”

“That works.” You’re laying there for a moment before he speaks again. “Are you okay with that? You said it was complicated before.”

It’s your turn to shrug now. “Yeah, it’s complicated for a vastly different reason.” The silence returns and you start aimlessly running your fingers through Dave’s hair. He’s toying with the hem of your shirt, here and there his knuckles graze your skin. This is nice. You need this. The platonic, semi-platonic in the colloquial sense, contact. It’s soothing in a way words can’t do.

“We’re gonna be late for movie night if we stay up here much longer.” Right, you moved movie night again. Karkat is picking the movie this week. Something that was recommended to him, but that he hasn’t seen. You make a whine of protest, but start moving anyway. You’re by the ladder when Dave stops and turns around to face you. His mouth hangs open like he’s going to say something, but closes when he changes his mind. You think he’s about to continue down the ladder, forgetting the whole thing, but instead, he pulls you closer by the front of your hoodie. It’s only the second time he’s kissed you, and you can feel the nervous energy that comes off of him, but it’s endearing in a way. He wants to kiss you badly enough to push past that. When you break back apart there is a beat where you stand still close and unmoving before the world starts to turn again and you continue to make your way inside. He climbs down and expects you to follow, but you’re already there and waiting when he turns around. “Cheater.”

“It’s not cheating, it’s efficiency.”

The walk there is uneventful aside from the way your hands bump into each other a few times. Maybe he’s in debate about reaching out for yours. It would seem he’s decided against it by the time you approach the door and he shoves them into his pockets. As per usual Roxy has the forbidden popcorn all set to go. Dave pulls cheese-its clearly ganked from the cafeteria out of his sylladex and throws them to Nepeta who catches them with a “Yesss.”

“Ah, I forgot my AJ. Back in a flash.” Dave says before making for the door. You take a seat on the couch next to Roxy. Her hair is still damp, you assume from the shower, and is a little strange to see without its normal bounce.

“He said a soft maybe,” you say in a hushed voice aside to her.

“Hm? Oh, oh, right.” She looks up at you and starts brushing away something from your hair and then your sideburns. “You’ve got crud in your hair.” You lean forward and ruffle the little bits of roofing out, although she seems to have gotten most of it. When Dave returns he plops down next to you and kicks his feet up on the coffee table as he cracks open his apple juice.

“So what're the mewvie choices this week?” Nepeta asks, getting cozy on the other side of Roxy.

“Historical Alternian War Romance,” Karkat says as he’s setting up the movie to stream to the TV. “In which two rivals compete to earn their place among the ranks of the threshecutioners while remaining oblivious to their clearly imminent kismesitude until they must fall into cahoots at which point a jealous third party tries to auspicticize. Rated for trolls ages 8 sweeps and up for bad language, implied heretical views, and graphic violence. The other option is Sweeney Todd because I found it on the sidewalk.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna hard pass on Sweeney Todd,” Dave casually objects before grabbing a handful of popcorn. He tosses a piece in the air and catches it in his mouth.

“Why? I thought it was supposed to be pretty good.” Karkat asks.

“It’s just another Burton movie where he pays Johnny Depp to romance his wife in some kind of creepy Burtonesque setting with a blue filter, and way too many musical numbers.”

“My vote is on the war romance,” Roxy seconds quickly and definitively.

“Alright, I guess we’ll watch that then. I was more into that one anyway.” Karkat shrugs, brings up the movie on the screen, and kills the lights. There is a lot of exposition at the beginning, but once the movie gets going it is pretty good. Roxy keeps leaning over to ask Nepeta questions and Karkat just can’t help but jump into the conversation. They talk over the movie at parts, but you don’t particularly care because Dave has slowly moved, at a glacial pace, to sit close enough to you so as to suggest that he maybe wants to cuddle without fully committing to the action. It’s adorable. You throw your arm around him and pull him in. The movie is about two thirds the way through when the battle they’ve been leading up to happens. It’s shot really well and you feel Dave pick his head up off your shoulder to better appreciate it. The special effects look like they are largely if not completely practical instead of CGI. You have always thought that looked better despite your love affair with computers. Suddenly something seems amiss. Dave keeps flinching. It’s subtle like he’s trying not to. You wouldn’t have noticed if he weren’t right up against you. You look at him out of the corner of your eye. His expression is stone and his gaze is locked forward on the screen as swords clash and the heroes press forward. There is a gurgled scream and you reflexively glance back at the movie to see a generic bad guy on the receiving end of a near beheading. Dave goes absolutely rigid and a split second later he is on his feet and out the door.

“What the…?” You ask quietly to no one in particular.

“Go after him.” Roxy tries to be discreet, but you’re all very much within earshot of each other and the comment catches Karkat and Nepeta’s attention. “Go.” She clearly knows something you don’t and the poorly hidden concern on her face has you getting to your feet and chasing after Dave who has more than a good headstart on you. However, there are probably only two places he could be heading. He either went to his room or the roof. You were going to check the latter first, but when you get to the window, it’s locked from the inside. Room it is then. You grab for the handle and turn, but it doesn’t budge, of course it doesn’t budge. You don’t know why you expected the door to be unlocked, they all automatically lock when they close. You force it open with your psi. Dave is nowhere to be seen, but his shoes are in the middle of the floor, and the shower is running. Okay…..little weird. You approach the door and knock. “Dave?” The bathrooms are shared between rooms, so it may not be him in there and you don’t need to be walking in on anyone. There isn’t a response so you knock louder. “Dave? You in there?” There still isn't a response. “I’m coming in, okay?” This door is different than the main one and it might not be the same as the one you have. It’s going to be a bitch to open if it’s locked. Luckily it isn’t. “You in here?” It wasn’t exactly on your agenda today to see your moirail naked, but something is wrong, and you’re going to have to pull back that curtain if he won’t answer you. You really hope it’s Dave in there. You slowly pull it back just a bit, trying to give as much warning as you possibly could on the off chance that it isn’t him. When no shrieks of horror happen, you look inside to see Dave fully clothed, sitting under the spray. His knees are drawn up and he’s hiding his face in one arm while the other further blocks it from view by the way he has his hand over the back of his neck. His shoulders lurch and you realize why he’s here. He doesn’t want anyone to hear him cry.

A series of sad chirps emit from your throat as you make your way to kneel by the side of the tub. “Dave?” He peeks his head out enough for you to tell that he doesn’t have his shades on, but not enough for you to meet his gaze. Alright, he is aware of your presence. You reach for the faucet, but he grabs your wrist. Immediately he lets go, trusting that you got the message. He’s buried in his arms again. This time both of them. You can see his shoulders shaking, but the only thing you hear is the water. “Alright, we can leave the water on.” You know it doesn’t work quite the same way for humans, but you chirp at him anyway and try to coax him out from hiding. He picks his head up enough that you can see his eyes, red on red and a little puffy. Water droplets are quickly collecting on your glasses, so you take them off and set them aside. “If I get you something dry, will you come out? We can leave the water running.” He shakes his head. Maybe this is something of a safe space for him. You guess you’re going in then. You close the curtain back up, pull off your socks, pull back the curtain from the other side, and climb in behind him. When he turns to look at you over his shoulder, you wrap your arms around him. For a moment Dave stills, then when he does move, you think he’s twisting away from you until it becomes clearer that he is trying to turn around in the cramped space. You fall back to recline in the tub, much like you were earlier today, this time with Dave clinging to you. His shoulders heave, but he still doesn’t make any noise, although now that his face is buried in your neck you can hear the stuttered sharp breaths he’s trying so hard to hide. You know it doesn’t work the same way, but the sentiment is there when you gently pap his face. “Something in the movie upset you.” It isn’t a question, simply a jumping point if he decides to take it.

“I thought I was going to watch him die.” His voice cracks when he finally speaks. That’s why he wasn’t saying anything. Not because he couldn’t. Not like what happens to you.

“Who?”

“Dirk.” He holds you tighter, undoubtedly recalling the memory. Even if he didn’t die, for the moment that Dave thought he would, it was all too real for him. You can unfortunately relate. “I know I said it was strife-ing, but it was so much more than just that.” You hold him and pet his head. “Sollux, it was so fucked up. I idolized him for years. I thought it was normal.” You think he's talking about Bro now, not Dirk. "It wasn’t and it just got worse and worse. Dirk was all I had." You're afraid to say anything. If you interrupt him, he might lose his nerve. All you can do is be here for him. "And he…” Dave inhales sharply and lets out an uneasy breath before being able to continue. “Bro tried to kill him, and all I could do was watch." That resonates. That hits a nerve you don't want to touch. Your chest ached for him before, but now it hurts. He’s sobbing again into your neck. Not freely, it’s stunted, like it’s something he really doesn’t want to be doing, but can’t stop himself. “He couldn’t come back. I was alone. I was alone with him.” Is that what you saw? Had he not seen Dirk in...in...? You think back to that day, piecing together what you remember them saying. He looked like him. Dirk and Bro look alike. Dave didn’t recognize him. How long had they been apart? How long was Dave alone with a guy who’d slash his own brother’s throat? That’s what it was right?

“The scar on his neck, that’s the one that…” You aren’t sure how to finish the question, but Dave understands it all the same. He nods his head and makes a choked sound as a true sob escapes him before he can stop it. He shakes and you can feel him grimace against your skin, teeth clenched as he’s trying to hold back tears. To think he was there for that. You don’t have the context for it, but you can’t think that there is a way it could have gone that wasn’t horrific. "I'm sorry," it's all you can think to offer. He's crumbling in your arms, but you're at a loss. You nudge the tap with your foot. The least you could do is keep the water from going cold. All those cracks you saw in him before are fracturing beyond their integrity. It’s somehow both desperate and resistant the way he’s opening up about this. It’s almost like... “Dave, have you ever talked to anyone about this?”

“I couldn’t. He was always watching. Cameras, my computer, stalking me, somehow he always knew.” He’s trying to be quiet, trying to speak as softly as he can, but his voice still waivers and cracks despite his efforts. Even this far away, he’s still hiding. Just like in the alley he fully expects his brother to be there when he turns around. A lot of his idiosyncrasies are falling into place for you. He’s hypervigilant. He’s always hopped up on this undercurrent of fear. “He’d kick the shit outta me if he saw me like this. He will if he finds me.” It hits you then. When you met him, his ribs were bruised and he had an air about him that was fake as hell to hide how shaken he was. This incident itself, you’re not sure when it happened, but the more long-standing problem, the situation he’s running from, that’s fresh. He’s only just escaped this, hasn’t he? That panic attack wasn’t some leftover fragment like the triggers you’ve been left with.

“I won’t let him,” You say as you pap his face again and shoosh him. You hate that this doesn’t do much for him. You can’t play with his hair when it’s wet like this either. You want to comfort him, but you don’t have the words to make things right. You don’t think any exist that could make this better anyway. The only thing you could offer was reassurance that you’d protect him, but you doubt he believes it. Maybe you don’t need say anything. The current mood isn’t exactly one that makes you want to purr; that’s a response to more content situations. Although, it is something you can do on command if you want to, but you don’t really want to. It feels inappropriate. So, you make something up. A pitiful purr. Something just for Dave. Something that resonates similarly from your chest so as to still sooth, but not convey the wrong voice. You hope it works. You have your hand on the back of his neck and your arm around his waist. He stops talking, but the fingers fisted in your sweatshirt loosen their grip. You kick the tap again. The hot water is running out. He sniffles and wipes his face on his sleeve. In the quiet, even to you the ambient noise of the shower and this new purr you’ve drummed up sound calming. You stay like that and after a few minutes, he lets go of your shirt and picks his head up out from the crook of your neck. He’s looking at you. His expression is almost confused. He’s thinking about something, but hell if you can guess what it is. He reaches up and brushes your hair out of your eyes. It’s been there for a while, but you were ignoring it. “The water is cold.”

“You want to get out of here?” you ask.

“Yeah.” You kick the tap and the water cuts out. He looks back as if to only just realize you’ve been doing that this entire time. He moves unsteadily to climb off of you and puts his hand to the wall as he stands up. He is absolutely soaked, as are you, and seems to be unsure of how to approach this. You cuff your jeans up to your calves before you stand up and peel off your waterlogged sweatshirt. He follows your lead. You hear the zipper of his hoodie as you wring what you can out of your sweatshirt. The gauze bandage on your arm is ruined, so you pull it off the rest of the way and chuck it at the trash. You miss. The adhesive bandages that were underneath it, however, are still good. You didn't really need the gauze at this point anyway. “What are those?” You look up. He motions to your bare side. You presume at the yellow marks, one on each side of your rib cage about five inches long and shaped like very shallow chevrons.

“Grub scars from when I had six limbs instead of four.”

“That’s so weird.”

“To you, maybe.”

You step out of the tub and hang your shirt and then his over the curtain rod to drip until you get a chance to dry them, or maybe you should just wash them.

“I did not think this through.” He says standing there with his arms out. He lets them fall back to his side with a wet plop.

“It’s okay. You can wait here. I’ll get you something.”

“Yeah, alright,” he says before looking around and deciding the edge of the tub to be the best place to sit. His closet isn’t far from the door and you find a towel pretty quickly. You ruffle your hair dry enough that it isn’t dripping everywhere and towel off your upper body before tossing it at Dave who stares at it like he forgot towels were a thing. You’re still tracking some water into the room, but you’ll get it later. Right now your objective is to rifle through Dave’s dresser and assemble something that vaguely matches. He really doesn’t have many clothes. You pick up a red and white long sleeve with a broken record on the front, any old jeans, and-- okay you know it’s supposed to be card suits on those boxers, but it’s still funny to you. You head back to Dave who has stripped off the wet t-shirt and now has the towel wrapped around his shoulders like a blanket.

“Here, I’ll be right back. Just going to run across the hall and change.” He nods and mutters a soft ‘thanks’. You offer up a smile and close the door for him. You make quick work of picking out clothes for yourself and wrestling out of your wet jeans. It’s late so you just put on pajamas. Hmm, maybe you should have done that for Dave too. Would that have been weird? It’s a moot point because there’s a knock at your door and when you open it, you see that he’s changed into them anyway instead of the jeans you gave him. He hands you your glasses. You had nearly forgotten about them. He even cleaned them for you. “Thanks.” You slip them on your face and step aside, shutting the door behind him.

“Sorry, I freaked out. It was all hells of uncool,” he says, looking away from you with his hands in his pockets.

You snort and move to lean against your desk. “First off, I have never thought you were cool. In fact, when I first met you I thought you were the walking essence of douchebag, which I later revised to dumbass because you were mercilessly and obliviously hitting on me.” He has a guilty smile on his face. He’s definitely reflected on these interactions. “Secondly, I am such a high key disaster. You could go completely off the rails and it wouldn’t phase me.” You pity this idiot so much.

“Sollux, you aren’t a high key disaster, low key at most,” he says with the kind of delicate smile you’d expect him to have after something so emotionally exhausting.

“You only say that because you have yet to see me at peak crazy.” You’re making light of it, but you feel it coming. You’re doing what you can to keep it at bay. If you can just last through finals you’ll be good. You can spend break being useless and then start the cycle all over again. He rolls his eyes at you. You can just barely see it with how his shades are less opaque in the low light.

“I think I’m done for the day,” he says.

“Shit like that will tire you out,” you reply.

“No kidding.”

“If you want to make a pile about that later, just let me know. By that I mean barge into my room and start throwing shit on the floor as ya do.” It gets a small laugh out of him. He stands there a moment staring at the floor before he finally gets more words out.

“Thanks, though...for, you know...back there. And not that I think you’d go around shouting it or anything, but don’t tell anyone? Especially, Roxy.”

“Confidentially is kind of a core part of moirallegiance. Even if she is your cousin, I’m still not going to talk about my moirail with my kismesis of all people. At least not in that respect.”

“Right, yeah, okay.” He nods a few times and starts heading for the door. “Ganight.”

“Night,” you say back. The door clicks shut and it’s just you and the drone of your bees buzzing around. You float up to your bunk and let the day play back in your mind. Dave isn’t the only one left tired. In a way, however, it was cathartic. Your palm husk pings and you look to see that it’s Dave.

turntechGodhead [T G]. began trolling twinArmageddons [T A].

T G: <>.

T A: <>.

turntechGodhead [T G]. ceased trolling twinArmageddons [T A].


	13. Chapter 30: To the Left

STOP. This is chapter 30. I'm not done converting previous chapters yet.

spoiler warning text to give you time to stop listening. spoiler warning text to give you time to stop listening. spoiler warning text to give you time to stop listening.

# ==> Be Sollux?

 **Dave's Dead** you killed him _you'll never see him again_ he's dead

 **OFFLINE** It's your fault

 _you doom your quadrants_ you killed them 

**It's your fault**

# ==> Be Karkat instead

This is pure hoofbeastshit. You aggressively flip yet another page over the top of the clipboard and continue filling out the stupid amount of forms, all the while deeply scowling at the paperwork as if it has personally wronged you. You still can’t believe they made you come all the way down here to authorize this in person instead of over the phone. AND WHAT IDIOT HAS NEVER HEARD OF A GOGDAMN CONFIDENTIAL FAX BEFORE WHEN THEY WORK IN A HOSPITAL?? Sure, to them it’s only one day, but for anyone who knows him, it’s an ENTIRE day that he’s alone. Right now, being alone with only his thoughts for company is the last thing he needs.

You flew down with Kanaya and Rose as soon as you could, but it still took too long for your liking and now you have to fill out all this crap just so anyone besides Mituna and you can see him. Technically Mituna is next of kin but for obvious reasons, it's been arranged to legally be YOUR problem. All this because he's under strict observation.

While his physical injuries are numerous, they aren’t so bad, painful for sure, but not life-threatening. The major cause for concern lies in his pan...which you guess is also physical... The doctors aren't sure how stable his psionics are yet. They're there, in what capacity that is has yet to be determined but they are there, so that's something. He's also awake, however, again they don't have all the details. They aren't certain of how aware he is. He isn't moving or talking. Presently, or at least when you BEGAN these forms, they had him jammed in an MRI machine to at least rule out any obvious signs that he burned himself out. There’s talk of maybe getting a lime-blooded specialist but with his trauma surrounding people in his head, they are hesitant to do that. It could make him worse if that’s even possible.

You sign and date the last sheet then loudly make your way to the reception desk where you slam down the clipboard. "There, can we see him now?" The receptionist lazily flips through the forms. You narrow your eyes as she begins scrutinizing what you've written. Sensing your agitation, Kanaya is quick to follow you. Her hand comes to rest on your shoulder and melts away some of your prickliness. When the receptionist is finally done, she leads your group to his room. Not everyone can go in all at once and only a few people are allowed to. Mituna isn’t here yet, he’s still on his way down with Kurloz, but they’ll be allowed in. You’re allowed in, of course, and Kanaya by extension of you. It’s the same way that Kurloz is allowed in by way of being Mituna’s moirail. You filled out a form for Roxy and Dirk too, even if it is both unusual for spades to visit each other like this and for humans to have moirails. Maybe one day they’ll figure it out for themselves. You motion for Roxy to go first. You’re dying to see him but it’s the polite thing to do. She nods and starts walking toward the doorway, then stops just short of it. With a shake of her head, she turns around and walks back over to you.

“You go first,” she says without really looking at you. You get it. It’s probably a weird mix of feelings to see him like that. It would explain why her face is so difficult to read. It isn’t blank but somehow you can’t quite discern what expression it is. You nod and take up Kanaya’s hand in yours.

The experience is unfortunately familiar. You step into the sparse white room that’s accented in hospital greens and blues. They have him slightly propped up with his arms at either side of him. Thick bandages encase his wrists. He’s on antibiotics for that. It’s one of the nastier wounds he has. Another being the cuts on his face from where the edge of the dampener had dug in. If they scar, at least they’re symmetrical. It will bother him less that way. You tell yourself it really isn’t that bad, he'll get his strength back, the bruises will heal, and the cuts will disappear, but the mess of wires and tubes coming off of him breaks your illusion.

There's an IV stuck in one of his hands and that little clamp thing on one of his fingers. Further up, more wires disappear into the collar of his gown to keep track of more vitals. There are similar ones attached to either side of his pan and behind his ears with those little sticky circles. You imagine those are for his psionics. They should be the ones that disturb you most but somehow the tube coming out of his sniff node turns your stomach more. It’s taped to his face to hold it in place and looped over his ear to keep it out of the way. You’ve seen it before. It goes down his protein chute. It feeds him because he can’t do it himself, because he can’t move. You make a sad little chirp and Kanaya squeezes your hand. You squeeze her’s back before stepping closer. He has his eyes closed but you aren’t sure if he’s asleep.

“Sollux?” you ask, knowing that the odds of him reacting are pretty slim. You look up at Kanaya. She’s holding herself together, better than you are, but she still looks saddened by the sight. “If you’re awake, can you open your eyes? It’s just me and Kanaya.” He doesn’t. Maybe he is asleep. You half hope he’s asleep if only to spare him feeling like he is for a little while. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. Even for you, this is some real shitty luck.”

“If it is any consolation, Mituna and Kurloz will be here to see you tomorrow. Roxy is also here, although I am not certain she is ready to see you in this state. Alternatively, perhaps she is being considerate of your inability to voice whether you would want her to see you in your current condition.” That is something you hadn’t thought of before. It’s a fair point but you don’t think either of them is thinking of it, or if Roxy is, you doubt it’s a fully conscious consideration. No offense to her.

“We’re, uh, we..." you start before changing your mind about what you were going to say. “I messaged Terezi for you. I figured if anyone could pull some strings legally speaking, it would be her. She’s been doing well by the way. Not that we got into it too much. But anyway, normally I’d say no one in their right mind would convict you but--”

“Sweety,” Kanaya interrupts softly. “I don’t think he needs to hear that right now.”

“If they drag him in there, he should at least have a heads up.”

“Still.”

You relent with a sigh. Kanaya tells him that you’re all there for him, that you’ll help him through this. Despite the soundness of her voice, there is a glass-like quality to her eyes. You hang around for a moment longer before you walk back to the waiting area. It isn’t a room itself exactly, but a room between rooms. There are a multitude of armchairs arranged in a double-sided row down the middle, and similar-looking two-person and three-person loungeplanks around the area’s perimeter against the walls. Between some of the chairs and at the area’s corners, are end tables holding stacks of old magazines and plastic flowers in cheap looking glass vases like the visual manifestation of empty platitudes. Rose is sitting by herself on one of the loungeplanks, thumbing through a book on the occult. You wonder where Roxy and Dirk went.

"Dirk stepped out to take a call. It is likely that he is also having a cigarette or two as I suspect it was the undertaker trying to reach him. Roxy is in the restroom," Rose answers even though you didn't ask. She bookmarks her page and shelves the tome in her sylladex before looking up. Her eyes are glassy just like your moirail's.

"I think I will browse the hospital's tea selection. Should I fetch either of you anything?" Kanaya asks

“Maybe some chamomile?” you answer. She brushes her fingers gently through your hair and then needlessly fidgets with your sweater as if she’s straightening your collar. It’s a nervous habit of hers, resituating clothing on both others and herself. You still her hands in your own, letting your touch linger before letting go.

“Camomile sounds lovely,” Rose says, offering a slight smile. It isn’t fake but you can see the effort behind it. You flop down next to her and watch as Kanaya disappears down the hall, letting your head tip back against the wall once she’s beyond your sight. “My condolences.” Hm?

“If anyone should be offering sympathies, it should be me,” you say, now feeling a little guilty for not doing so sooner. “Sorry about...about your cousin.” It’s too much to say his name out loud right now.

“Thank you, although I do believe you have just cause to receive them as well. You lived with him for some time. He was your friend just as he was mine.”

“I guess.”

“It is a shame about Sollux as well. If it isn’t too intrusive, may I ask about his catatonia?”

“Go for it.” You sigh. You should have known she would ask. She’s into all the psychology shit.

“I’ve heard that he has a history of it.” When she doesn’t continue you realize there isn’t actually a question coming.

“It’s only happened once before. It’s not chronic or anything like that. They weren’t even entirely sure it was a standard case of it last time.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m sure you know with humans that there are some pretty effective treatments for it. They treat trolls with the same medication but it takes longer. I forget why, doesn’t matter. Sollux was even more resistant to it and giving a psionic electroshock would be the dumbest waste of time ever if not wildly negligent in how fucking unpredictable it would be. They had speculated it had something to do with him being mind-controlled but he snapped out of it before they nailed down a theory so it was moot. Except for the not talking thing. That didn’t happen before he was like that. Either it wasn’t a big enough issue for anyone to give a damn or being the stubborn ass that he is, he probably refused to talk about it with anyone so they just swept it under the woven floor covering.” It’s very likely the second one.

“I see. That is rather interesting. So it is either an atypical case or a compound issue with the catatonia feeding off of or being rooted in the traumatic experience of being denied his autonomy. I imagine his existing mood disorder would complicate matters further. Particularly if his regular medication conflicts with the standard treatment.”

“Guess what,” you say, loling your head to the side to stare glumly at her.

“It does.”

“He has the worst fucking luck, I swear to gog. They have to wean him off his meds while they wean him onto the shit that’ll help pull him out of this.” You close your eyes and resume resting your head back against the wall.

You share a moment of quiet before Rose speaks again. “Karkat, there is something else I wanted to ask you, or rather, ask of you.” You turn your head to look at her again, expecting to find her looking back but instead see her gazing off into the distance. Whatever it is that she’s about to ask must be more personal. "I had sent Dave my final draft not long ago. I plan to ask Roxy to break into his computer for me so that I may read however much he was able to get to. However, as I doubt he finished it, I was wondering if you would read through my final draft in his stead."

"I knew he read your work, obviously, but I didn't think it was in a serious way," You say as you straighten yourself up.

"It is--" she abruptly pauses when she catches the slip in tense. "was buried under many ironic layers as is the Strider way. They both read my work. We would often use the annotations function to pass notes between them. Dirk didn't trust it entirely so there were things we could not mention, such as his relationship with Jake-- He didn’t want their brother to disallow Dave from speaking with Jade, but it was rather good for conveying more lengthy letters. I digress. As I was saying, Dirk was good for mechanical errors and wording, while Dave's insights were more... How shall I put it?" she presses a finger to her lips as she thinks. "He has on more than one occasion been the source of a comment that has had me rewriting large swaths of text."

"Really?" You wouldn't have pinned him as being a font of literary advice.

"Yes. I doubt he realized how valuable some of his commentary truly was." That makes more sense, him stumbling ass-backward into something insightful. Before you can stop it, your stupid sponge has the sudden thought that he should read your stuff sometime and it has you setting your jaw to keep your lip from quivering. “If it’s too much for you right now, I understand.”

“No, I can do it.” It might be good to have something to focus on.

“Thank you. I will send you a link later tonight, but feel free to start whenever suits you.” You nod and lean forward on your knees. Out of the corner of your sight, you catch Rose quickly and quietly wiping away a tear, and it suddenly dawns on you that Kanaya’s attention may be divided. Not that you intend to lean on her entirely, she’s going to need consoling too, but matespritship with humans tends to run a bit pale. If Rose was ever going to lean on her, now would probably be the time. That and, now that you think about it, she and Dave were pretty close. They’ve known each other for years and even if their conversations ran sarcastic and were veiled in insincerity, they could see past each other’s bullshit. What was it that Dave had said once? Something about there being real progress underneath all the dick jokes? That sounds about right. For all their kidding, they did actually confide in each other, maybe not on a moirallegiance level, but a level nonetheless. “Is there something on your mind?”

“Huh?” You look up too suddenly and zing your neck. “Nngh.” The pain dissipates but leaves behind a weird sensation despite the way you rub at it. “I was just thinking...Kanaya, she and you usually stay fairly red, but if you needed to uh...ya know.” Now you’re rubbing your neck for a different reason. “I mean, it’s up to her but I wouldn’t say no.” You don’t need to see your face to know how red it must be.

“To be clear, are you propositioning me to join you in a ménage à trois of the pale variety?”

“WHAT? NO! No, no, no, I-- WHAT?!” Your eyes could not be wider. “I JUST MEANT LIKE IF YOU WANTED SOME ALONE TIME WITH HER TO TALK ABOUT YOUR FEELINGS OR SOME SHIT I WOULDN’T BE PISSED ABOUT IT.” Troll jegus take you now. She puts her fingers lightly to her mouth and laughs in that reserved way she does.

“Ah, I see. That is sweet of you. I may take you up on that if need be.”

Thankfully, Kanaya returns and saves you from this rapidly deteriorating conversation. She’s followed shortly by Dirk and Roxy, but they leave soon after without seeing Sollux. You get it. It makes sense. That’s a perfectly reasonable response for a kismesis. Are they dead? No? Cool, leave them to their other quadrants. It still rubs you the wrong way but it's probably just because they run red too, so you keep it to yourself for now. Rose goes with them. You think she would have stayed if she was allowed to see Sollux. They didn’t know each other that well but if nothing else she would have been there for Kanaya if she could.

There isn’t much you can do besides sit with him when you return to his room. You can’t even offer the simple reassurance of holding his hand because they’re both so bandaged up and he can’t tell you if it hurts. Kanaya makes idle chat with you about your screenplay and suggests perhaps subjecting Sollux to it. There is a hint of lightheartedness to her words, the joke that the profound urge to mock your work would overcome what has him locked inside himself. It sticks with you and you find yourself truly considering it more and more over the next few days.

It's a lot of the same. You sit with him. Other people sit with him. Occasionally he opens his eyes but they're unfocused, not truly looking at anything. You're hoping he improves even the slightest bit before Mituna gets here. Kurloz was going to bring him down sooner but thought it might be best to get an emergency appointment with his psychiatrist first when Sollux was cleared as stable enough to move to a regular room. You keep asking when he can transfer to a hospital closer to home, but they won't give you a straight answer. They're gonna drag him into that courtroom, you just know it. You’re not sure how you feel about it, to be honest. On the one hand, he really isn't fit for it, but on the other, it will probably help him legally to look as pathetic as possible. You still can’t believe they’re trying to charge him. The person Terezi persuaded to take on Sollux’s case is motioning to get it dismissed entirely instead of having it go to trial. There is a part of you that had hoped she would be coming down herself, but it was stupid to think she’d have the time. What would you even say to her if she did? Regardless, you trust she would send someone who knew what they were doing so at least there is that. You finally get a real answer the night before it happens. It couldn't be worse timing, well, it could but not by much.

All of you file into the right side of the courtroom clad in corpse party attire. Roxy and Dirk are up front seeing as they witnessed the aftermath. The rest of you are in the public seating area. Kurloz and Mituna are on the end, then you, then Kanaya and Rose on your right. Behind you are the Egberts, including Jane who is technically an Egbert but took on her grandmother’s maiden name as part of her inheritance of the company for image purposes you guess? Jane is on one side of their father and John on the other. Next to him are Jade and Jake. You imagine someone pulled some strings to get Jade here so quickly. Probably Jane, evidently she has money and connections, and that goes a long way.

The judge, an older human, looks at her watch and it has you checking your palm husk. It’s not even five past, but you guess late is late. It isn’t his fault though, like really. The light murmuring in the room goes silent when the double doors start to open with a loud creak. You don’t want to look, it dredges up unpleasant feelings you hadn’t anticipated ever having to feel again, but you find yourself looking anyway as they wheel him in. They have him dressed in that forward-backward two gown getup with a blanket over his legs. There is that same stiff look to him, like a posed doll, that becomes so much more apparent when he’s not lying in bed. As he passes by your group, you start to hear Mituna whine, then just as they are wheeling him backward through the gate, Mituna springs forward out of his seat. Kurloz lunges for him, trying to catch him by the back of his shirt but his fingers only graze the fabric. He’s quick to his feet but still doesn’t quite manage to catch him before he can get to his littermate.

“No! FUCK! Let go! Let me go! Sthollux!” he yells with anger in his voice but tears running down his face, absolutely distraught as Kurloz pulls him back and traps him in his arms. He puts up a fight, thrashing and squirming and struggling to escape while a word salad of nonsensical insults spills out of his mouth. The nurse looks at him warily while she puts Sollux’s arms back on the armrests and resituates him from the way he was slightly jostled to the side. A string of words so profane they’d make a threshecutioner blush dissolves into sobbed protests as Kurloz throws his moirail over his shoulder and leaves the room. He'll be okay. Kurloz knows how to handle him when he gets like that. It’s been a long time since he had a full-blown meltdown though.

The hearing proceeds without further interruption. The angle they’re going for is ‘overwhelming amount of evidence in favor of the defendant’, which is a pretty fucking good angle. “Overwhelming” isn't hyperbole either. Aside from everything that transpired before they strifed, the strife itself is on tape. Youtube and Grubtube couldn’t take the videos down fast enough. When you knock out the power grid in a six city-block radius and become the only light source for half a mile in every direction, people tend to notice. There are a bunch of videos from all different angles and distances but only one that starts early enough, is close enough, and has an unobstructed view of when Bro comes at him and Dave steps between them. It's important because not only does it clear him entirely for Dave's death, it solidifies the argument that he had reasonable cause for deadly force and wasn't just getting revenge. Unfortunately, the prosecutioner has ground to stand on for that; Sollux did go a little overboard. You heard about how hard it was to separate Bro from the roof. It wasn’t just from the sword either, although that was jammed in there pretty deep. He left behind a scorch mark like a chalk outline. However, overkill or not, deadly force to save your own skin is apparently "legal" in Texas as long as everyone in the judgment box agrees.

The attorneffender is halfway through explaining all of this in gross detail when a high pitch sound pricks your ears. For a split second, you think it's Mituna before you remember that he isn't in the room anymore. It's Sollux. You look to Kanaya just as she's looking at you. There's no way the human nurse can hear him whimpering. Should you go up there? They mention Dave again and the sound he makes squeezes your bloodpusher. You can't just leave him like that. But what if it's some big fucking deal and you make a mess of it and interrupt the attorneffender and ruin everything with your big dumb mouth and the judge takes it out on him?

At your visible indecision, a look of elegant composure slips over Kanaya's face. She pats your hand before gracefully rising and making her way up to the railing where she discreetly and unobtrusively alerts the caretaker to Sollux's distress in a way you could never hope to pull off. From where you’re sitting you can’t see it but you’re pretty sure they’re sedating him if the way his chirps slowly fade out is any indication. Again, you're torn over the decision to bring him here; if you had put up enough of a fuss you're sure that you could have stopped them.

This isn’t fair. How can they even think of making it out to be his fault? It's asinine. You need a break from hearing this. Just as you are thinking it, the judge calls for a recess so she can review the footage more closely. You all filter out of the courtroom. Most of you head to the area designated for waiting and refreshments, others make a B-line for the load gaper. You go off to find Mituna. They’re likely tucked away in some private little corner somewhere. When you eventually find them, they’re at the end of a somewhat secluded hallway. It has a large window and benches to either side of it on the adjacent walls. The Late morning light that streams through the dirty panes gives the space a melancholic liminal quality. Mituna is sitting on Kurloz's lap, wrapped up in his arms. His helmet is set down next to them and Kurloz has his face buried in his moirail's untamed hair. Mituna makes a hushed sound of surprise and looks up as you approach, then eases upon seeing that it's just you. His relief is short-lived though because the movement dislodges Kurloz from the position he was in, causing him to begin to slump forward. Hurriedly, Mituna moves to push him up so he's leaning against the wall. It's then that you notice the way his eyes are rolled back, leaving only his sclera showing, and glowing a bright pink.

"Don't tell," Mituna whispers as he tries to maneuver Kurloz back into a position that hides his eyes. You quickly look around to make sure no one is watching, then move to stand in front of them, blocking them from the view of anyone who might happen by.

“What the fuck are you doing!” you hiss.

“Don’t tell,” he repeats just as Kurloz jolts upright with a sharp breath. He gets to his feet so as to more easily steady the momentarily disoriented purple blood.

[I’m okay. No need to worry your pan, my diamond.]

“That better have been an answer to my question! What did you do?” you manage to both shout and whisper.

[My palest of pale was having himself a vast concern and I would reach into the maw of the terrors what fuel the harsh whimsey to soothe my beloved's think sponge.] You aren’t sure what exactly he said but it has Mituna turning bright yellow and poorly obscuring his face.

“Looooz, nggh, don’t be grossth.” Kurloz silently chuckles in response. You cross your arms and tap your foot impatiently while you bore your scowl into him.

[Only a bit of gentle persuasion, my invertibrother.]

“He wasth justh, he was really careful. They wouldn’t have even noticed it wasth him!” There is a guilty sort of whine to his voice. Your scowl intensifies. “He only pushed a little. They were gonna-- they can't do it. They can’t do that to him.” Kurloz pulls him back into his lap and immediately the gold blood buries his face in the other’s neck. It takes some of the breeze out of your sails.

“You’re sure they didn’t notice? They think the suggestion you put in there is entirely their own thought?” Kurloz is good with his telepathy hoofbeastshit, and he looked pretty fucking focused, but you’re still not so sure about this. It’s already been done though, so you might as well make sure it was done right. He looks at you and nods before turning his attention back to his moirail, quietly shooshing him and gently drawing circles behind his ear. It’s more than you’d care to see so you turn your eyes away. “This better not go to hell.” Especially since there was a pretty good chance that even if it did go to trial that he could win the case. It would be stressful for sure, but still.

You get a little turned around on the way back and by the time you find yourself in the refreshments area, everyone has left. You stand there awkwardly, full of indecision as to whether or not you should go back in when the choice is made for you. You jump aside as people start pouring out and bump into someone behind you. A hand steadies you by the shoulder and you look up to see it’s Kurloz.

“Karkat!” Kanaya calls out as she hurries toward you, slipping through bodies in the crowd. There is a smile on her face that you catch a glimpse of before she has her arms wrapped around you and starts telling you things you have to, at least for the moment, feign surprise about.

# ==> Try being Sollux again

Dave's dead. **He's dead and you're not.** He's dead. _Your diamond is dead._ Your moirail is dead.

And you'll never see him again.

signal lost

# ==> Be Dirk instead

In the movies, it rains at funerals. For Dave, there ain’t a cloud in fucking sight; the sun is out in full force. You’re laying him down in the small plot your family has. It’s been a long time since you were last here. A real long time. Dave was still in pampers back then. Bro would visit your parents and it was your job to hold Dave while he placed the flowers. You don’t really remember them. Not their voices, not their faces, just a pair of shoes and pant legs attached to some stories.

A crow squawks and drags you back to the present. The crows always liked Dave. You remember this one time when you hoisted him up on your shoulders so he could put one of their babies back in the nest. It was just low enough on the radio tower that you could reach it together. Maybe that’s where it all started. There are a lot of them here. It’s an obscene amount really. They’re weighing down the spindly branches of the nearby tree, crowding the tops of the surrounding gravestones, and spilling over to hold vigil in the grass like it’s standing room only. There is even one perched on the casket. It’s like they’re actually here for Dave.

Jake’s hand squeezes your shoulder. He thinks your rigid silence during the service is because you’re sad. It should be. You should be sad, you should be a wreck, but you aren’t. You’re impossibly numb. Events are passing by you like they’re being projected on one of those ludicrously large and expensive curved movie screens, or like a vr headset circa 1997. The look is there but you just don't feel it. You don’t feel anything at all. Everything came to a halt when Roxy and you barreled through the roof access door and saw those two lying in each other's blood. Dave's overpowered his in both color and amount. You hadn't actually realized Sollux was bleeding until Roxy turned him over. It was running all down his face and had soaked into the fabric of Dave's shirt, turning orange where it bordered red. There was so much red. You tug at your suddenly constricting collar.

People are laying flowers now. Jake gives you a nudge and you start walking with him up to the casket but it doesn't feel right. You feel far away, more than you would consider within the normal range. The world feels like it blinks and you misstep. His hand rests on the small of your back in more of a gesture of steadying you than actually steadying you. That lone crow is still perched on top of the casket when it’s your turn. So far it’s had its head bowed as if paying respects while overseeing the flower leaving ritual, but when you approach it, the bird snaps its gaze up at you and unhinges its beak.

"J’accuse."

'Nevermore' might have been more appropriate.

The world around you warps not unlike a windows movie maker transition and for a brief moment you feel like you’re falling, then it’s all black. Your consciousness doesn’t quite swim in a sea of nothing. It’s more akin to being a lone museum display, a fragment of the self held aloft on a pedestal in a vast void where the velvet rope has become so meaningless that it has circled back unto itself and now stands to make a mockery of its ward. You think you hear your name. It isn’t exactly muffled, more like dissolved, or as if it were coming through a radio station that's just slightly out of range. It comes in a little clearer the second time and there is a painful familiarity to the way the disembodied voice enunciates. It reminds you of Dave. It is Dave. It can’t be Dave. The grains of your being settle into place. Not only are you suddenly reminded of the existence of your eyelids, but your awareness of your body itself soon follows as well. He says something again. Wake up? Did he tell you to wake up?

Your eyes snap open to the strong stench of ammonia but it isn't Dave you see, of course it isn't, it's Jake and Roxy. You're all on the ground. Jake has you in his arms and Roxy is waving something in your face that she pulls away presumably because you've opened your eyes.

"I can't believe you still carry these with you." She's talking about smelling salts. Back when your brain would fuck off to parts unknown and wasn't too keen on coming back around at anyone else's convenience, Jake used to keep them on hand just in case you zonked out entirely. You guess he still does. Did you forget to take your medication? You could have sworn you took it. Maybe the stress is catching up to you even if you can't fully feel it.

"Never hurts to be prepared. How you doing there, ol' sport?" Jake asks, turning his attention from Roxy to you.

"I blacked out," you say flatly without making any effort to move just yet.

"So you said, or rather, warned me a right hot moment before doing just that!" he says it with a cheery sort of humor but you can feel the undercurrent of worry in his voice.

"Did I?" you don't remember that part. It's a rhetorical question. You don't wait for a response before trying to get to your feet. You’re perfectly fine but you let your boyfriend help you anyway. He snakes his arm around your waist and starts to lead you away from...away from your little brother. You know it's a sad feeling but you're experiencing it through glass, look but don't touch. You glance back over your shoulder and find that crow staring back at you.

You need a cigarette. It takes some persuading before Jake lets you wander off on your own. You distance yourself from the mourning party before fishing the pack of cigarettes out of your pocket and lighting one with a crisp flick of new flint. The thick smoke in your lungs feels good. You missed it. It only takes a few drags for Roxy to show up. You aren't sure if Jake sent her over or if she is simply seizing the chance to step away.

"Hey there, sailor. Come here often?" she asks as she produces a whole-ass bottle of wine from her sylladex and throws back a good amount of it.

"Not fucking around today are you?"

"I think I gotta pretty good excuse."

You make a hum of solidarity and take a long drag. "Are you going to see Sollux after this?" If she is, she needs to slow the fuck down.

"I dunno." she says as she looks away. "It's hard to see him like that and it's not like he's alone." She lets out a frustrated breath and takes a much smaller swig.

"If you're staying here with me, you may want to see him soon. With the charges against him dropped, I reckon they'll be flying him back up north any day now." At that, she straightens up, not that she was slouching much to begin with.

"What do you mean 'staying here’ with you? You're coming back, aren't you?"

"I have to sort through the apartment and figure out what to do with Bro. I'm not burying him next to Dave." You’ll probably just cremate him. After that, maybe haul him to the junkyard and let Roxy use him for target practice. Going through the apartment though, that'll be something else. You aren’t sure what, but it will be something. You theorize it'll either suplex emotions back into your body or simply be a matter of tossing out everything you can’t sell.

"I think Karkat is going back to the hospital tonight. I'll hit him up later and find out what's going on," Roxy says. She takes one more sip of wine before chucking it back in her sylladex and jamming her hands in the pockets of the black sundress she’s wearing. You wonder if Kanaya added pockets to it. Roxy has on more than one occasion complained about a lack of pockets on her clothes.

You finish up your cigarette and pitch it in the road. A pang of guilt runs through you when you turn to walk back to the nearly over funeral. Dave didn't like you smoking and it isn't good for your health, but neither of those things matters anymore. It's just you now. The last remaining Strider. The last Strider. Maybe it would have been that way anyhow. It's not like you were going to pop one out and maybe Dave wouldn't have had any kids either, or maybe he would have wound up raising troll babies if he stuck with Sollux for the long haul. You hope for Sollux's sake that he wasn't thinking that far ahead. Again, a thought dangles a feeling just out of your reach; Dave would have made a great dad.

# ==> Try Being Sollux Again

The world is hazy. They have you jacked up on painkillers but you can still feel a dull ache in several places. The world is background noise. You shut your eyes. When you open them again, in a blink, it's night. It doesn't matter. Days don't matter. It doesn't matter how many it's been or how many it will be. It doesn't change the new constant in your miserable life. You don't keep track.

Dave took your sense of time with him. It's dead just like he is.

Sound suddenly turns back on like the world was on mute. Karkat is here. He's talking to you but your brain doesn't hold onto any of his words.

Nurses move around you. Sunlight moves along the wall in starts and stops. They talk about you like you aren't there. you aren't there You close your eyes.

They're visiting you again. Lots of people you know. If you were capable of caring right now, it would be too many. Karkat is here. He's been here a while you think. Maybe. You feel him squeeze your hand before he's replaced by Mituna. You can feel him tugging on your psionics, making sure they're still there. You let your gaze drift in his direction. It's easier with him. You don't have to...you don't have to make eye contact...because...because...you can't see his eyes behind his **shades** visor.

D A V E

There's a flicker to your left as you think his name. No. yes No. please No. just one more time You can't take this again. It hurts  
Just like last time, you first see it out of the corner of your eye. Just like last time, you can't help looking. He's there, sitting on the edge of your bed like a shoddy hologram, translucid but not clear. Dave is looking in your general direction and his mouth is moving like he's talking to you, but no sound comes out. He stops and looks away for a moment before turning back. He smiles and a sharp ache throbs in the center of your chest. It creeps up your throat, choking you, filling your mouth. Daves mouth full of blood Stop. taste of blood Stop it. like pennies in your mouth Shut up. You can hear your pulse jump on the machine beside you and that only makes it worse. He pantomimes speech again and looks at you softly. You can't do this. He reaches for your hand. You can't breathe.

Error 503

# ==> Be Karkat

You take a sip of your tea and ease up on the foam cup in your hands lest you spill it all over yourself or all over the hallway that you’re headed down. After a conversation that definitely wasn’t an argument and was at a reasonable noise level, you finally have some solid answers on the whens and hows of Sollux being transferred up to a hospital closer to home. It calmed down Mituna some. He even voiced a surprisingly lucid thought about it too. Even if Sollux doesn’t particularly trust physicians, a familiar one in a familiar place is still better. That and their doctor knows sign language so it doesn’t matter if verbal skills or motor skills kick in first.

You’re making your way back to his room where most of your group has gathered. The Egberts headed back with Jane shortly after the funeral and Jake is watching Jade while she rests; her sleep disorder is acting up again. The rest of you are here keeping Sollux company before they fly him up. He still isn’t moving or speaking, but his eyes are open and Mituna says his psionics don’t feel wrong. While you aren’t 100% on what that means exactly and he couldn’t explain it better, it is positive. You’ll take any scrap of good news right now.

“Oh jeez!” Roxy says as she sharply rounds a corner and nearly crashes into you. So much for good news. There is an urgent look on her face. She grabs you by the arm and starts pulling you in the direction you were already headed. “Come on, hurry.”

“What the fuck?” You chuck your tea in a trash can as you pass it. With the way she’s tugging you along, there’s no hope for not spilling it. You were almost back to the room anyhow, so it doesn’t take long to get there. Dirk is hanging back by the door with his arms crossed. His head only moves slightly as he catches sight of you and moves out of the way to let you both through. Kurloz and Mituna are at Sollux’s side and both of them turn to look at you as soon as you step in the room. Kurloz moves aside and you take the cue to replace him.

“What happened?” Sollux is breathing too quickly and you can feel a faint amount of static coming off of him. His eyes are looking all the way to his left, away from you all. Then suddenly they dart to lock with yours, wide and desperate and afraid, before looking away again.

“We don’t know. All of a sudden he just started freaking out,” Roxy says from somewhere behind you. Mituna makes a whining sound and you turn around to see Kurloz signing something to him. He looks uneasy with whatever his moirail is conveying to him.

“Loz...ngh, I-- I don’t..."

You grab him by the shoulders and turn him to face you. “What’s he saying?”

“He could, Kurloz could look,” he says with several taps to the front of his helmet. “Mind, see inside.” You can see why that wouldn’t sit well with him. You look up over your shoulder at the purple blood and then to Sollux. If he gets any more upset it’s going to set off at least one of the machines he’s hooked up to. Would they change their mind about letting him go if that happens? You can't all stay here indefinitely. You look around the room and realize everyone is looking at you as if this is your decision. Is it?

“Do it,” You say with a bit of reluctance. It isn't ideal at all but you can't just leave him like this.

Mituna pulls away from you and turns around, twisting back and forth with indecision as he scans the room before running to Dirk of all people who shoots you a very confused look about the troll now swaying side to side just slightly behind and to the right of him well within his personal space. It’s probably less about him and more about the corner he’s standing in. Or maybe he’s the next adultiest adult after Kurloz in Mituna’s mind.

A sound like a huff of air catches your attention and has you turning back to Sollux. Another huff accompanied by a wheezed, almost strangled sound comes out of him, like he’s desperately trying to speak but just can’t make it happen, like trying to scream in a nightmare. You exchange a nod with Kurloz and move to stand closer to the head of the bed while Kurloz takes a seat beside him. Red and Blue eyes flit to look up at you and then to Kurloz before coming back to meet yours. They’re glassy. You put a hand to his shoulder but Kurloz shakes his head and gently removes it. With even more caution to his movements, he tilts Sollux’s head to look more directly at him. One of his hands lets go but the other moves up to Sollux’s temple and his eyes begin to take on a faint pink glow. At first, it’s one-sided. For a moment you have doubts about this working because Sollux isn't letting him in and Kurloz wouldn’t force it, he’s definitely asking permission, but then Sollux lets out a shaky breath and shuts his eyes. Tears spill down his face and when he opens them again they have a similar pink haze to them.

Kurloz recoils almost immediately. His hands fly to cover his mouth as he turns away and doubles over. In an instant Mituna is at his side, chirping with concern and trying to get him to look up at him but winds up with his arms full of moirail instead. Mituna manages to get him to stand up and they move to sit on the empty bed one spot over where he starts quietly shooshing him. You aren’t given much time to wonder what it was he got out of Sollux because Roxy reappears in the room she apparently left. There is a nurse with her, an olive blood you think, following at a much calmer pace.

“Again Mr. Captor?” she says sympathetically. Again? You step out of the way and nearly trip over a chair. With utmost care she begins repositioning him, turning him onto his side away from where he was looking. She moves his arms to be loosely in front of him, tucks his head slightly, and brings his knees up for him. She gets him most of the way there and then to your astonishment, he pulls himself the rest of the way into the larval position. “The types that don't move much, It can be easy to forget they aren’t paralyzed. Sometimes it just takes the right stimuli. Sometimes not. But even a stereotyped or...automatic response is better than none,” she says softly, noticing your surprise.

“No, I-- I know, but I just didn’t...know.” She nods, seemingly understanding the poorly worded thought that left your mouth. She picks up his chart and makes a note on it before leaving. She isn’t the nurse that is usually around but you’ve seen her before. She sounds like she’s had experience with this. You wonder how Roxy knew to get her or where to find her. You make a note to ask her once things settle down a bit more. Speaking of, Kurloz seems to have calmed down. Mituna still has him wrapped up in his arms but he isn’t shooshing him anymore.

“That was...eventful,” Kanaya says, breaking the silence that overtook the room. She clears her throat and looks to you for back up.

“Yeah, it would have been nice if they’d told me this happened before or that he could fucking move at all,” you grumble as you cross your arms with a huff. This facility sucks. “Is he alright?” you ask, turning your focus back to Kurloz. Mituna makes a so-so gesture. You nod in response. You want to know what that was all about but he still needs a minute. Much of the room looks like they need a minute, maybe two. Two. Sollux would have made a joke about that. You frown having successfully made yourself sad.

“Sweety?” you look up to see Kanaya and Rose lingering by the doorway. “Rose and I are going to step out for some air. Would you like to join us?” You consider it but shake your head.

“No, I uh,” you look around the room for Roxy but find that she and Dirk are both gone now. “Did you see which way Roxy went? I wanted to ask her something.”

“I believe she is ultimately headed outside, as that is where Dirk doubtlessly went, but I saw her headed toward the vending machines a moment ago.” You nod and give a short thanks to Rose before slipping past them.

You find Roxy roughing up a vending machine a few hallways over. She bangs her fist hard against the plexiglass and scowls when it doesn’t give her the plastic contained fluid she requests. When you get closer and she mashes the buttons a few more times you can see the little LED screen scroll the words ‘out of stock’. You punch in the letter and number for a different slot of the same drink and the machine springs to life with a hum. It’s the conveyor belt kind of drink machine that sends up a platform and pushes your drink out onto it. As it’s coming down you jam your hand in it to stop it from vending. The platform goes back up and then tries to come back down again, but again, you don’t let it. The motor shifts gears and more slowly raises the platform. You pull your hand out enough to let the machine reset itself, making sure not to let the drink dispense as it passes the opening while it moves the platform all the way to the bottom. You can feel Roxy looking at you but before she can say anything the machine starts up again and retrieves a second drink. You grab both of them and hand one to her.

“Nice trick.”

“Thanks,” you draw your mouth into a thin line before continuing. “Gamzee showed me how to do that.”

“I can see him doing that.” There's a little smirk on her face as she imagines it.

“Hey, um, that nurse,” you start as you crack open your stolen drink. “What was up with that?”

“Up with what?”

“It wasn’t just luck, was it?” Roxy makes an ‘ah’ expressions as what you’re trying to say clicks. It quickly replaced by something more sullen.

“She was here earlier. I kinda snuck off while everyone was grabbing something to eat. Easier to stand outside his door like a chickenshit on my own, ya know?” She tries to make lite of it but the smile she offers up fades fast.

“Oh,” You aren’t sure what you expected really, but you had kind of thought there was more to it.

“There were two of them actually.”

“Hm?”

“They didn’t know I was there and I heard-- I totally wasn’t listening in on purpose, but I heard them talking and..." she pauses a moment in thought. “So like, I know this happened to him before and it happening twice is the worst, but is it different this time?”

“What do you mean by different?” By strict definition, yeah, the circumstances are wildly different, but that isn’t what she means.

“I might have been walking in the same direction as they were leaving and I might have heard them talking about Sollux. One of them was asking about him, like what his deal was. I guess maybe she was a trainee or something? That nurse was giving her the rundown on it in a clinical way at first but then she put two and two together, and asked if he was the one that came in with ‘that dead-on-arrival’.” She makes air quotes as she emphasizes the phrase. You can see that getting around. It can't be every day that someone comes in with an injury like that. “I couldn’t see em and it was quiet for a while so I'm guessing she nodded or something, I dunno, but then she said ‘ _they were moirails_ ’. It was how she said it though, like that explained everything, and the other nurse seemed to understand better after that.”

“Ah,” you say to fill the silence that follows while you try to find the right words. “Yeah, it is different. It’s...it sucks the largest sack of bulges. Because, see, and I know he didn’t have a moirail last time he lost a quadrant, but bear with me here. So it’s like, your moirail is who you go to when somethings wrong or when something happens, when you’re upset, and they make it better, but if they’re the thing that happens..." you bring your hands up and let them fall to your side. “Some trolls will relapse over and over because every time they start to improve it reminds them of having a moiralligence. Not to knock other quadrants but there is a reason it’s a trope in a lot of dramatic media.” Your own words sour your stomach. You hadn’t actively thought about that yet. It was hard enough for him to pick himself up last time; he was only just starting to really. Your eyes fill up, turning your vision into a mosaic and your lip starts to shake.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to--”

“It’s fine,” you squeak out. It’s not fine. You sniffle long and loud. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I’m gonna-- gonna go back to the..." there’s no end to your sentence as you walk away. You try to fix your face before you get back to the room but it’s already a snotty mess so you have to take a detour to the men's room first. By the time you get back, everyone has beaten you to it and it looks like it’s you they’re waiting for. You look between them expectantly.

“Kurloz has confided in Mituna about what he saw. We thought you would appreciate us waiting until you returned,” Rose states calmly as if it’s nothing. You can feel your face going hot and your eyes tearing up again. Kanaya breaks away from her to usher you over and you scurry to her like a fucking wiggler, but you can’t help it. “Go on, Mituna.” You peek your eyes out from where you’ve buried your face in Kanaya’s sweater. He looks conflicted or confused. Kurloz is trying to guide him through it but he’s getting frustrated. He signs something sharply at him and Kurloz frowns. It has Mituna launching himself at the other, clinging to him, his arms wrapped around his middle.

“I’m sthorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. Sthtupid, stupid, I’m sthorry,” he sobs. Kurloz rocks them from side to side and pets Mituna’s head. A little chirp leaves him and has Kurloz cooing at him before they break apart. It goes better the second time but you can tell he’s struggling to keep his sentences together. He’s probably exhausted from all this. When he finally gets the words out, it makes your bloodpusher plummet. Sollux is losing it in there. His mind is in pieces and he’s seeing things. He’s seeing Dave. You detach yourself from your moirail and walk over to sit beside where he’s still curled up. With him lying this way you can see the additional wires attached at different points along his posture pole. With a heavy sigh, you pet his head. Damnit, Dave. Why did you have to be so good for him?

# ==> Several days in the past but not many

Your name is DAVE STRIDER and you’re hella confused about this whole being conscious thing.

It stems primarily from the fact that you are fairly certain you just died a moment ago. You blink a few times and place your hand to your chest as you take another deep breath in. It feels fucking amazing after the pure suck fest that was drowning in your own blood. Well, actually, you think you went into cardiac arrest first, but if not for that you totally would have, which sounds pretty bad-ass. Or at least, you thought that that’s what happened? The sword hole is gone, so is all the blood, and you can feel your heart beating in your chest again. Slowly you sit up and take in your surroundings. You’re in your room, your old room, but everything is tinted darkroom red. Oh fuck, there is an afterlife and you went down. Man, you were no saint but down? really? You'd have thought taking a hit for your moirail would have at least counted for something. Oh no, Sollux. Oh fuck, oh shit. Your mounting panic is interrupted by the sound of movement at your window and has you quickly turning toward the noise with nervous energy. But it isn’t hellspawn that greets you; it’s Jade. She floats into your room and plops down on the window sill. The poofy gold princess dress she’s wearing makes a ‘floof’ sound and she giggles like she did it on purpose before looking back up at you and flashing you a bright smile.

“Hi, Dave.”


	14. Chapter 32: Bro's tragic backstory

# ==> Be Dave

“Come on, man. Wake up.”

“Dave.”

“You really gonna leave me hanging like this, huh?”

“Dave.”

“Dirk..." You plead, shaking his shoulders for the umpteenth time but he doesn’t move a muscle. 

“Dave, You’ve been at this for 17 minutes and 43 seconds. I don’t think it’s time.” You sigh and hang your head in defeat. You know Hal is right. You knew that fifteen minutes ago. “Our efforts are best focused on locating Dirk’s tower.”

“Yeah, okay.” You scoot off of the slab that Dirk is resting on and needlessly dust yourself off. “I know you’re effectively an amnesiac but do you have any idea where it is?” 

“Only vaguely. There are a lot of towers and the intranet for these planets is limited. It is mostly a forum-style format for their news and general discussion. Logic would dictate a pinned post should exist with tower locations if you are, in fact, some kind of royalty, however, I have not seen it. This leads me to believe there is a chance upwards of seventy-five percent that a physical map exists, which would make a digital map rather redundant. Personally, I don’t mind redundancy but the carapacians may differ on that.”

"Aight," you say with a nod. "So we just pick a moon and start wandering around until we find a tower that says 'Prince of Heart' I guess?"

"Unfortunately that plan has a higher probability of success than most even if it is a bit tedious. I would however recommend that we split up. It will be more efficient if we each take a moon." Makes sense. With that, the two of you take off in different directions. 

You figure that your own tower is as good a place as any to start. Like an idiot, you land in front of it only to realize a moment later that flying at a low level still requires you to be, ya know, flying. You had hope that maybe Dirk’s tower would be close to yours since he’s your brother but no such luck. The titles you do pass have you curious. You busy your mind thinking about which of your friends might be the “Seer of Light” or “Rogue of Heart” or the other titles you see in your search. If you weren’t so mentally drained you would probably be fighting off the urge to take a detour. Right now you reason that you’ll have plenty of time to check it out later if you-- wait what the fuck? You kick it into reverse and drift backward until you’re face to face with the words on the tower you just passed by after it ticked the “Not Dirk” box. It can’t be right. Can it? You didn’t think the titles would repeat. You aren’t sure why; there was never anything anywhere that said they couldn’t. It just seems strange that they would. Finding Dirk’s tower is important for sure but you can’t just pass by this.

You ascend, slowly closing the distance between yourself and the window at the top of a tower that says it belongs to the “Mage of Doom”. You brace for the letdown, landing lightly on the ledge while keeping your head down and your eyes screwed shut. There’s a tight feeling in your chest and tremors running through your shoulders and you think to yourself that if you don’t look up you can still pretend it’s him and that’s better than knowing it isn’t. You could pretend he’s here with you if you just don’t look up to see that he isn’t. You turn away and stare out over the city but you can’t step off into the twilight. You try to reason with yourself but wind up talking in circles. On the one hand, you can pretend it’s him if you don’t look, but on the other hand, that’s stupid and crazy and why would you do that? You grit your teeth. But what if it is him? What if his duality runs so stupid deep that he has a dreamself on both planets? You whip around before you can change your mind, spinning on a dime too sharply to have time to look away. 

And there he is. You step into the room, stumble, and land on your hands and knees. Everything stills, and then you laugh. You laugh well past the point of how ironic it is that he’s here. You laugh until you realize you’re not laughing anymore; you’re crying. Both confusion and panic hit you at once. It puts a hitch in your breathing that has you choking on your own spit, but it does break the loop you were stuck in. You grapple with your respiratory system until you can properly get air again and for a moment you sit there on the floor trying to recover from whatever that was just now. After clearing your throat and drying your eyes, you haul yourself to your feet and cross the short distance to sit on the edge of Sollux’s bed. He looks just as sad as the last time you saw him. 

“And we thought that duality thing ran deep before,” you say with as much humor as you can muster to lighten the mood. It isn't much. “If we get out of this together I’ll never mock your two fetish again... alright, there is no way I won’t do that, but I’m fuckin psyched that the universe has bestowed upon me a tiny crumb of mercy like I’m some kind of Dickensonian orphan all please sir can I have some more except instead of getting pistol-whipped with a gruel bowl or whatever happens to that kid, the universe actually does me a solid.” You look away for a moment in an effort to keep your shit together. “I know you can’t hear me but,” you turn back and stare at him with a soft smile. “Just having you nearby makes this suck a little less.” You reach out to take his hand. As soon as you make contact your expression falls. “Sol?” You can feel that bad static sensation humming through him. “Hey, it’s okay.” You get closer. “It’s gonna be okay.” He's freaking out and there’s nothing you can do. He can’t hear you. He can’t see you. He can’t feel the way you’re awkwardly holding his hand because it’s his left and your left or wait no, is it just because you're facing him? The logistics of hand-holding are not exactly a priority right now. The priority right now is the weird thing happening with your moirail’s eyes. They’re glowing but not like they normally do. He doesn’t have them open, not really, just a crack, just enough for you to catch the hot pink overlay distorting the familiar red and blue. You blink and it’s gone so quickly that you half-wonder if you imagined it.

Slowly you get up and back away. There’s a dream-chair at Sollux’s dream-desk, so you plant your dream-ass down in it. What the fuck is even happening anymore?

Your phone pings.

auto-Responder [AR] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG]

AR: I found Dirk’s tower but we have a small problem.

TG: fuckin great

TG: what now

AR: Who pissed in your cheerios? Maybe next time we look for something I’ll let you wander needlessly for hours.

TG: my bad its nothing 

TG: whats the new puzzle i have to solve before i can level up and unlock a shiny new sword

AR: Funny you should mention swords. You’ll need one of those.

TG: im not really in the mood for you to be cryptic so if we could cut to the chase here that would be real fuckin peachy keen for me

TG: what do i need a sword for

AR: Dirk appears to have sealed his tower with the help of thick sheet metal and a rivet gun.

TG: and you think my sword is going to cut through that

AR: Let’s call it a hunch.

AR: I’m installing a locator app on your phone so you can find me.

TG: cool

turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering auto-Responder [AR]

When you get to Dirk’s tower it is indeed sealed tight. It has two windows just like yours. Both those windows are currently lacking some of the basic functions of a window, namely the visibility part and the being an opening part. You shake your head once as you do the floating equivalent of taking a stance. You get ready to take a swing when a glint of light off your katana has you hesitating. A phantom pain burns in your chest.

“Don’t half-ass it.”

“You wanna take a crack at this yourself or...?”

“All I’m saying is to hit it like you mean it. I think I have something of an authority on knowing how Dirk would go about opening a locked door given no consequences.” 

“It isn’t a door.”

“Window, door, same thing.” _Sollux would agree._ “In addition to that, it only has rivets in the corners. Two good swings and it’ll come right off.” You roll your shoulders and get ready again. When you strike, you half expect the blade to snap and come back at you but it doesn't. “Told you.” Well shit, you guess he did. You hack another long horizontal slice into it along the bottom to mirror the one you made at the top. After that, it only takes one good yank for it to go clattering to the street below. 

The first thing you notice about Dirk’s tower is that it has the same overlay of red lighting that yours does. The second thing you notice is that it’s effectively a time capsule. This isn’t Dirk’s room from his apartment. This is Dirk’s room from when you were kids. Or well, it resembles that. Your side of the room has been replaced by a cluttered workspace. Tools and parts litter the makeshift wood and cinder block bench, and the walls nearby are covered in blueprints for... 

“Holy shit,” You say as you get closer to them. “Those are..." Dirk was right. He wrote it down. He wrote everything down and hid it where Bro could never find it. Wait...WAIT...does that mean? You spin around to face Hal as it all starts to click in your head. “This is the place. This is the place Dirk went to when he zombied out. It wasn’t in his head. It was real.”

“You’re only just putting that together?” Hal asks smugly.

“Fuck you, how was I supposed to know? I mean yeah he told me a vague description of it once but still.” The gears continue to turn in your head as you look around the room at nothing in particular. “He’s not like Jade though. He can remember more because he isn’t always entirely unconscious when he’s here. He won’t remember everything but maybe it’s enough.”

“You do realize what this means though, right?”

“What?”

“Dirk isn’t going to wake up until he stops taking that medication. That’s his poison apple. He either figures it out somehow or gets stressed to the point where he falls back to his less healthy coping mechanisms and hits a hyperfocus spiral.”

“Not exactly ideal, but how long you reckon that’s gonna take?”

“I can all but guarantee he is already smoking like a chimney again, and being in a committed relationship means we get to skip the slut phase as long as he isn’t dumb enough to cheat on Jake. With Roxy inevitably returning to school and thus, giving Dirk some space, I’m fairly confident he can find a way to combine generalized recklessness with all-consuming obsession, so we are well on our way.”

“Dude, that’s pretty fucking cold.”

“It is what it is, Dave. You died. He isn’t going to take it well.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” you concede even though you still think it was a mean thing to say. He does have a point. You take a seat on Dirk’s bed and stare at your hands. This is so fucked up. What do you do now?

“So,” Hal prompts. You look up at him. “Forgetting something?” Oh, right, the reason you’re here. Hal floats over to Dirk’s desktop as you hoist yourself back onto your feet with more effort than anticipated.

“Here goes nothing,” you say as you press the button to power it up. It boots and the extra drives connected to it light up. “Do you know the password?”

“No, but I shouldn’t need it. Once the ethernet adapter wakes up, the drives should come back online.” You sit there and wait for several minutes before Hal makes a sound of disgust. “It’s not working. They’re still offline.” By now you’ve slouch down as low as possible in Dirk’s desk chair and have your head resting on a hunched shoulder. You let your eyes slip shut but open them again when Hal sighs. “You look tired. Go take a nap. I’ll think of something. We’ll find a way out of this.” You hope he’s right. All this uncertainty is starting to wear you out.

You sleep for an amount of time that doesn’t matter. It’s a while, definitely more than the standard eight, but it’s not like you have much to do. You wind up going back to your moon and find yourself checking in on Sollux. You don’t go into his tower, you only duck your head through the window and stare at him like a creep for a few minutes. You suppose you could check out who else is around even if they’re asleep too. You start with the tower closest to yours; The Seer of Light. You can see the room is purple as you near the window and when you get close enough to see some of the interior, a smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. It’s Rose. She’s asleep like everyone else. Her room looks just like the one you remember from winter break. There is stuff everywhere yet somehow it still gives off the feeling of being neat and orderly. Maybe it’s because of how contained each area of clutter is as if she was simply interrupted while busy with something and will be right back. You sit on the edge of the bed and talk to her for a bit about how crazy this all is and how you wish she were awake because she’s so smart and you bet that she could figure this out in a hot minute. When your rambling starts getting circular, you move on to the next tower and then the one after that. It’s starting to hit you just how weird this all is, like you’re waking up for a second time. So many of the people you know are here. You can’t help but think this is exactly what your mind would do if you were in a coma. Jade said you weren’t but you can’t truly trust that. Your potentially unconscious mind could have made that up. It really did feel like you died though. So if that’s true, what is this place? Why is it here and why are so many of your friends here? 

You fly back to your room and dig around in your closet until you find your old camera. Prossspit had way more murals but there are still a bunch on Derse. It might be busy work but if nothing else, cataloging the murals may give you some insight. It couldn’t hurt to get more familiar with the place either. 

* * *

tentacleTherapist [TT] began trolling carcinogeneticist [CG]

TT: Karkat, there are technical difficulties with the previous link that I sent you. I get an error upon trying to access it. The file appears to be glitched. It thinks that Dave is currently editing.

TT: Please use this link instead

TT: [ [Link]](https://www.homestuck.com/story/1852)

CG: WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS WEB SITE AND WHY IS IT TRYING TO INSTALL AN UNAUTHORIZED APP? IS THIS MALWARE? DID YOU SEND ME GOGDAMN MALWARE? 

CG: I THOUGHT YOU SAID IT WAS ON GOOGLE DOCS.

TT: I never said that. The program I use is a partially web-based application created with authors and beta readers in mind. The link is trying to install a viewing application so that you can have access to the beta reader tool suite.

CG: IT’S SHADY AS FUCK.

TT: I suppose I have been using it for so long that I did not recall the extent to which it appears shady as fuck. Perhaps it would not be correct to say that it merely appears shady as fuck. It *is* rather shady as fuck. A former penpal of Roxy’s is the only other person I have ever known of to use it and I’ve never been able to locate its main website. In fact, I have suspicions that it is actually a remnant of a long-defunct website left forgotten and unnoticed in a labyrinth of servers.

CG: IF THIS BLOWS UP MY LAPTOP I’M COMMISSIONING SOLLUX TO MAKE A VIRUS THAT LITERALLY MELTS YOUR SCREEN.

TT: That’s fair.

TT: Speaking of, how is he doing?

carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased trolling tentacleTherapist [TT]

* * *

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT]

TG: what snack u want?

TG: dirk

TG: diiiirkkk

TG: answer yur phone

TT: Whatever is fine.

TG: nooooo pick something 

TT: Surprise me.

TG: if u dont pick somethin ur gettin carrot sticks

TT: Dunkaroos.

TG: chocolate chip?

TT: Yes, please.

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] ceased pestering timaeusTestified [TT]

* * *

grimAuxiliatrix [GA] began trolling carcinogeneticist [CG]

GA: How Are Things Going

carcinogeneticist [CG] is an idle chump

CG: HE'S DOING BETTER. THEY TOOK THE TUBE OUT TO SEE IF HE WOULD DRINK WITH THE ASSISTANCE OF A STRAW TODAY. HE NEEDS TO BE TOLD TO DO IT BUT HE IS DOING IT SO THEY'RE GOING TO PUT HIM ON LIQUIDS. 

CG: IT ALSO MEANS THEY’RE MOVING HIM INTO THE PSYCH WARD NOW.

GA: Thats A Good Sign

GA: The Medication Seems To Be Working Well

GA: Is He Moving His Head In A Responsive Manner Yet

CG: NO, STILL JUST IF HE'S UNCOMFORTABLE OR DOESN'T WANT TO BE LOOKING SOMEPLACE ANYMORE. 

GA: We Cant Expect Too Much Of Him At Once

GA: It Will Likely Take Him A Very Long Time To Recover And There Is The Possibility That He May Never Fully Do So

CG: DON’T SAY THAT. HE’LL GET BETTER. SOLLUX ALWAYS BOUNCES BACK.

GA: I Sincerely Hope You Are Correct But It Would Be A Failing Of Me As Your Moirail To Leave You Unprepared To Cope With The Emotional Toll Of That Outcome <>

CG: <>

GA: You Should Get Some Rest

CG: I’M FINE.

GA: Sweety Please Get Some Sleep Lest You Take On The Appearance Of A Bandit Trashbeast

CG: UGH, OKAY FINE. I’LL GET SOME FUCKING SLEEP BUT I WON'T LIKE IT.

carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased trolling grimAuxiliatrix [GA]

* * *

assasSinsatiable [AS] began pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]

AS: yO

TG: hey

AS: havenT seeN yoU oR youR spadE arounD iN A whilE 

AS: everythinG chilL?

TG: n ot really

AS: oH

AS: whaT kinD oF noT chilL?

AS: likE arE wE talkiN tepiD oR satanS batH wateR herE?

TG: perty fuxckin bad

AS: oH snaP

AS: noT tO gO sticking mY nodE wherE iT ainT belonG buT diD yoU guyS breaK uP oR somethinG?

TG: no

TG: some stff wentt down lik some real bad stuff all kindas siedsways an hes all jac ked up in the hopspital 

AS: shiT

TG: yea

AS: iS hE gonnA bE okaY?

TG: idk 

TG: i mean

TG: psyically

TG: *phsyicily

TG: *phsically

AS: iM noT diggiN thE implicatioN therE

TG: TAs moirail died

AS: oH shiT

TG: he wass there for it and i geuss i was too jus not soon enmough to do fuck all bout it or say goodbye or

AS: oH fucK

TG: he was my little cuosin and now hes just 

TG: poof

TG: gone

AS: damN iM sorrY

AS: thaT reallY blowS

TG: yeah

TG: TA offed the fucker that did it and blacked out a good chunk of the city while he was at it tho so idk i guess thats anvenerging him ot some shit at least

TG:*avenging

AS: hiS moiraiL waS /murdereD/ ?!

AS: /iN fronT/ oF hiM?!

TG: TA was hurt rely bad and his moirale was tryna keep him sfaae and wwe were there just noat the right place tryna find him

TG: thers more too it but im too tired get into it tbh 

AS: valiD

AS: honestlY iM surpriseD yoU saiD thaT mucH

TG: nothin that u couldnt fgirue out neway 

AS: noT tO bE creepY buT iF i wanteD tO senD A carD oR whateveR iS therE A p.o. boX oR somethiN likE thaT I coulD senD iT tO?

TG: umm yeah i guess 

TG: ill look into that later

AS: cooL

AS: I gottA bouncE buT takE carE okaY?

TG: thx

assasSinsational [AS] ceased pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]

* * *

carcinogeneticist [CG] began trolling grimAuxiliatrix [GA]

CG: HUMAN BUREAUCRATIC PROCEDURES CAN SUCK MY FESTERING SPHINCTER. 

GA: Karkat I Cherish You But It Is 2 AM

CG: OH, RIGHT, SORRY. I DIDN’T REALIZE WHAT TIME IT WAS.

GA: It Is Alright I Would Have Been Up In An Hour or Two Anyway

GA: We Are All Under A Lot Of Stress Presently Hence My Return To My Natural Sleep Cycle So It Is Very Understandable

GA: Are You Up Early Or Have You Not Yet Slept

CG: I’VE BEEN UP WORKING ON THE PAPERWORK TO 1. AUTHORIZE THAT LIMEBLOOD TO SEE SOLLUX AND 2. GET SOLLUX’S INSURANCE TO PAY FOR IT. THERE ARE A LOT OF CIRCULAR METAL OBJECTS TO LEAP THROUGH BUT I REALLY THINK IT MIGHT HELP HIM. 

CG: SHE GOT IN HIS HEAD BEFORE WITHOUT HIM FREAKING OUT. MAYBE IT’S A LIMEBLOOD THING, BUT I’D RATHER NOT TAKE THE CHANCE. AT THE VERY LEAST SHE HAS PROVEN TO KNOW WHAT SHE’S DOING WHICH IS MORE THAN I COULD SAY FOR A LOT OF THE MEDICAL STAFF. THOSE SPONGEDEAD SHITLICKING NOOKHUFFERS ACTUALLY SUGGESTED PUTTING A MEDICAL DAMPENER ON HIM FOR A FEW HOURS TO TRY SHOCKING HIM WITH HIS OWN PSIONICS WHEN THEY REMOVED IT AS IF THAT WOULDN’T BE TRAUMATIC FOR HIM. 

GA: I Can See The Logic Behind It But That Is Something Of A Gross Oversight

CG: I KNOW RIGHT?

CG: I THINK I’M GOING TO GO FOR A WALK. 

GA: That Sounds Like A Good Idea

carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased trolling grimAuxiliatrix [GA]

* * *

tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]

TT: Mother has changed your plane ticket

TG: wtf

TT: Well, you see...

TT: She emailed me offering her condolences and suggested that we both spend the next weekend of our mutual convenience at home. This being, of course, a hollow offer that she assumed we would not take her up on, but one that she needed to at least present lest we call her out on her negligence to provide the expected support. Ergo, I was forced to accept her proposal out of both ironic defiance and passive-aggressive spite.

TG: legit

TG: r u there already?

TT: I’ve only just arrived.

TT: By the way, it may be wise to bring some reading material. You have an hour and a half layover.

TG: uggghhhhhhh

TT: Mother says “Hello,”.

TG: uggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhh

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT]

#  ==> Be Sollux

You're ripped raw every time you see him, every time you think you hear his voice, every time you swear you can feel the ghost of his touch on your skin. You don't think you could take it if they were ever concurrent. You can barely withstand it as it is. Even so, part of you wants it desperately. Part of you wants to see him just one more time and one more time after that. The other part of you dreads it. The doctors think you're improving but you're not; you're losing your fucking mind. They keep raising the dose of whatever they have you on. It's starting to kick in but you're still trapped in that weird place where time doesn't exist and you can't hold onto what's happening around you. Even during those brief moments where the world aligns in a way you can process, your body is too heavy and your sponge is too sluggish to react. Not that it matters. Nothing matters anymore.

With your physical wounds healing up, they took you off the stronger painkillers and have you on something much milder. Now you can feel the true intensity of the aches that run through you whenever you think of him. It's a pain that wells in the back of your mouth and spills into your chest before radiating down to your fingertips. You think of Dave a lot. You think of him when you're awake and if you dream, you think of him then too. Every sleep is a coin toss.

Karkat visits you a lot. He fills you in on what's happening. You remember him saying how they wanted to move you. As if you cared where you are. Hospital, psych ward, home, it doesn't matter. The only place you really want to be is six feet underground. Instead, they have you propped up in the dayroom. It's the central communal room of the psychiatric ward where everyone is required to be during the day unless you've earned enough "recovery points" to be left alone in your room. You're facing the tv but you aren't watching it. That would take both effort and desire. Instead, you're thinking about all the shows and movies you never got around to watching with Dave and how now you never will. Out of nowhere the tv remote sails past your face and hits the wall beside you where it probably breaks. You don't bother to waste the energy looking. For whatever reason, they put the anger management people in here too with the depressives and the addicts. One of the orderlies starts wheeling you away from the tantrum happening just outside your line of sight and parks you beside the nurses' station for an indeterminate time. At some point after that, another person comes by with something that resembles a smoothie. It's what they've started making you eat. You don't notice them until they get chided by one of the nurses for getting frustrated with you. You miss the specifics. Something about your condition, stupor, involuntary responses, patience. The nurse helps you instead. She puts it in your hands and makes you hold it, then asks you to drink it but it's a command, not a question. Mechanically, you comply, although you don't feel fully present for the action despite carrying it out.

After that, you zone out and try not to think about the futility of life and your dead moirail which turns into you doing exactly that. You swear you can hear him. Distant rambling that you can't quite discern. It's as if he were talking from out in the hallway. You suppose this is what you get for getting your hopes up, for thinking you could have someone like him, for thinking you could be so lucky. Someone shouts that the mute (you) is crying again and an orderly comes to check on you.

You're moving again, or rather, someone is pushing you down a hallway all of a sudden. You have no idea who it is or where you are or what they're saying. That should concern you but it doesn't; you don't care. They take you to a room that looks like it's used for one on one therapy or consultation. There are two chairs in front of a desk and another behind it, but no one is sitting down. You recognize the human there. It's your psychiatrist. He's signing and talking to you very slowly. It...it actually does make things a little clearer for you.

"Good afternoon, Sollux. It's good to see you more alert." You do not recall having seen him. "We have someone here today that may be able to help you." This doesn't interest you.nothing interests you There is no helping you.It's pointless "You may recognize her." Whoever she is, she's outside your field of view. The conversation comes to a halt until, realizing you aren't about to do it on your own, you're told to look. She does seem familiar. She's lime. Those are still pretty rare. You don't know any lime bloods. How do you know her? "We thought about trying some telepathic therapy but with your history, I didn't think it was wise." Yeah, you are so good on not having anyone in your head. "However," Oh no. "She has helped you before. Normally she works with emergency and crisis cases." She helped you before? Your sponge feels sluggish as you try to think. Your face must show it because your psychiatrist offers you another hint. "She's a paramedic." It clicks. You do know her. She calmed you down that night. "Sollux? Are you still with us?" Unfortunately, yes. You flit your eyes back up and look between the two of them. Are they really going to do this? "Good, then let's get started." Oh gog, they really are going to do this. No, no, no, no.

You swallow hard. Things are happening off tempo and with a strange viscosity. Your psychiatrist moves one of the chairs and the orderly wheels you into its place. You can't initiate a reaction. You're stuck in the moment right before that. The lime blood takes the other seat and turns it to face you before sitting down. The only sign of your distress is the way your breathing is picking up until you remember she's a troll; she'll understand you. You chirp even though you have no one to chirp for anymore.

"It's okay, sugar. I'm not gonna hurt you. You remember me?" You do. You remember her voice, soft with a twang similar to Dave's. Not TexasDave though, maybeDave Georgia.Dave "You still there?" she asks gently tilting your chin up. Her eyes are so green. "Just like last time, okay?" She pets your head in a way that reminds you of how your lusus used to. Her hand slides to your temple and this time when she speaks, when she tells you that it's okay, her voice feels cool and has too many layers to count. "Feels better, doesn't it?" It does. You aren't quite as apprehensive about this but you're still scared. "That's it, just breath in...and out...in...and out." Your vision is getting cloudy at the edges with a bright green haze but for some reason, you aren't terribly concerned about it. "I'm only going to take a peak, no touching, no direct reading, only concepts." The words come through with more clarity as everything else around you falls away. She won't read your thoughts verbatim, no words, just ideas. You guess that's okay. You aren't sure what exactly is happening but you begin to feel her presence in a less physical sense. "Oh, baby," she coos at you. "You're all weighed down in there. That's an awful lot to carry." It is.but it's your fault "I bet that hurts. Right in here, hmm?" She touches your chest with the tips of her fingers. "Dull and sharp at the same time." It does.but you deserve it "Being heartsick like that ain't fun."you couldn't protect him "It'll crush you if you let it." you couldn't protect her either "How about you let me hold some of that for you?" What? "Just for a second. Okay?" You don't understand. What does she mean? "It's not permanent. Just something to relieve some of that pressure." That...that sounds... okay you think? It's hard to focus. How do you respond? Maybe...you just sort of...think?...about...letting her in?..about...letting her help?

She smiles and does _something_. You aren't sure what. All you know is that you feel like one of those pull-back toy scuttlebuggies and she just let go. You gasp and fling forward to curl in on yourself with your arms wrapped around your middle. Ugly heaving sobs rip from your throat and just keep coming. She rubs your back and tells you that it's okay to hurt. You can't stop. Your psionics fizzle a weak but visible static around you. You can't stop crying. You take in quick sharp breaths and hold yourself tighter as another wave of gross tears spill down your face. Thoughts overlap as they flash through your mind, memories too. Some of them good ones turned sour and others that were always rotten. A high pitched sound you haven't made in years slips out. She assures you that you're safe. You don't have to call for your lusus.

You aren't sure how long they let you stay there tightly curled up and wracked with grief-stricken sobs. Your current headspace isn't the best for keeping track of when therapeutic expression turns into hysterics. The lime blood troll leans down so that she's eye level with you even though you aren't looking at her. She's getting in your head again. You're about to shove her out but a soothing hum stops you. It reminds you of your bees. She's calming you down like last time. Lulling you to passivity with speech and sound that your senses can barely grapple with processing. You start to quiet down little by little. Hands dislodge your arms from your sides and another pair gets your legs. You faintly hear someone say "this is progress" as they lay you down on a gurney. It doesn't feel like it.

#  ==> Be Dirk

"You sure it's cool if I take these off your hands?" Roxy asks with a tap to the box of retro games under her arm. 

"It's fine." You would just sell them otherwise. With a soft digital shutter click, you take one more picture of the crazy collage. 

"Alright, if you change your mind, just let me know." You give a hum of acknowledgment as you kneel down to prepare several pieces of posterboard to transfer everything over. "You sure you're alright with me leaving?" At that, you stop and turn to face her.

"I'll be fine. It's only until Sawtooth and Squarewave get here." They'll be keeping an eye on the place for you. The rent is paid out until June apparently. Roxy thought it might do you some good to step away, clear your head a little and tackle Dave's room later. "A few days tops." She looks uncertain but relents. 

"Kay. I'm serious though. Call me if you're not." You nod and reach up to lock digits with her when she holds out her hand for a pinky swear. It satisfies her and has a weak smile momentarily tugging at the corner of her mouth. "You know I was thinking, it's kind of suspicious that Bro had the rent paid out so far," she says as she drifts toward the doorway, doubtlessly stalling for time. 

"It is." You get to your feet and head into the living room where you have a large piece of paper spread out on the coffee table. It's divided into three columns: Likely, Plausible, and Wild Speculation. Roxy and you have been categorizing ideas as they come to you and sorting them by the likelihood of being accurate. Your pen hovers between likely and plausible before you choose to put 'Bro having intentionally and purposefully paid out the rent ahead of time' into the plausible category. 

"So uh, guess I'll be heading out now." You look up to see her lingering by the open front door, hands jammed in her pockets having chucked the box of retro games into her sylladex. You can take a hint. 

"Wait up." You cross the short distance to stand in front of her and somewhat awkwardly hold out your arms. Immediately you're met with an armful of Roxy. She has her head on your shoulder and her arms wrapped tight around you. You return the embrace but it feels distant, almost mechanical. 

When she leaves, the apartment feels desolate. Your phone pings loud in the silence and for a second you think it's Roxy being funny, but it's Jake telling you that he and Jade are about to board their connecting flight out of Hawaii. It’s short and matter of fact but you deserve it after the way you acted. Sure, you were drunk as all hell the first time you decided it would be a great idea to relentlessly come on to him, but the second time, not so much. He told you to stop but you just kept begging. You had trapped him up against the wall as you whispered desperate filthy pleas between coercing kisses to his neck. He had to shove you away and then you had the audacity to trip over an errant suitcase, nearly whack your head on a chair, and make him feel bad even though it was you in the wrong. A fun little metaphor for your relationship as a whole. It brings you back to your long-standing intrusive thought of “Does he truly want you or did you just take advantage of the circumstances and manipulate him into it?”. 

You send a quick reply and resume the task of making Bro's link analysis board more portable. Between that, raiding his computers and the burner phone, and the other scraps from the closet, you've pieced together a few things so far. Primarily, it would seem that he had an obsession with Skaianet Systems. He had information about them going back several decades all the way to the company's founding, which was evidently the work of Jake and Jade's grandfather. Mr. Harley was also involved with Betty Crocker albeit less directly. Bro's info on that is less extensive. You sent Jane a message about it earlier but she hasn't gotten back to you yet. Her grandmother appears to be related to Jake Harley through their mutual adoptive parent. Looks like the Strilondes aren't the only set of cousins among your long term internet friend circle. You found it suspicious as hell and so did Roxy. 

Another thing of interest came up when you had the bees sort through the fragments of Bro's purchase and browser history to follow the craigslist adventure he had been on more recently. It was an impressively well-timed fetch quest to get an additional psionic dampener. Who the other one was for you aren't sure. He was also searching for some kind of custom or proprietary disk reader. You're not sure that he knew what exactly he was looking for. Some of the listings are wildly different from each other.

You tack another section to the posterboard and double-check the reference picture you took to make sure everything is in place. You do that a few more times until there's only one cluster left. When you pull that one down, a Polaroid falls out from behind it. If he was going to leave clues for you-- for Dave, he really could have been a little clearer. The picture tells you little to nothing itself but it is familiar. It's a lot like the last one in the box of mementos. You look over your shoulder. So, Bro wants you to look in the box again, huh? You pay careful attention as you unload everything but it's the same stuff that was in here before. You grab the polaroid off the bottom of the pile and hold the two side by side. They're identical save for one having Cal in it. God, that puppet is creepy. He's still somewhere around here too. You're about to pack everything back up when you notice something; the box has a flat bottom. It isn't a file box, you should be able to see the flaps. Curiously you dig a nail into one of the corners and sure enough, you get an edge. You pull at it more forcefully without regard for damaging the false bottom and it comes up with ease to reveal more photos, some cassette tape jackets, and a small stack of papers, the lined kind that you would tear out of a spiral notebook. The photos are older like the one you found of yourself as an infant with those two people. They’re mostly of Bro with his old crew. There’s one of him selling tapes in a parking lot presumably after a gig. Another one looks to be him and a troll taking a breather while some other people strife partly out of frame. You think you might even know which outdoor basketball court they’re at. The next photo has that same troll in it. It’s an uncomfortably intimate selfie. Not that it’s explicit or anything, there is a thick layer of plausible deniability, but it just seems a bit... You move on to the last picture. You’re in this one. It’s a candid shot of Bro and you passed out on someone’s couch, your parents’ couch you suppose. You couldn’t possibly be more than a few months old given the way he has you sleeping on his chest. It strikes you as a little strange and for a second you can’t place why exactly, but then it dawns on you. If you’re only a few months old, your parents would have still been alive and this photo is drenched in paternity. With a series of rapid blinks and a sigh, you set the picture aside and turn your attention to the stack of loose papers. It's a letter to you and Dave. You take in a deep breath as you comb your fingers through your hair. You're gonna need some coffee for this.

## ==> Dirk: read the letter

You sit down at the kitchen table, unfold the yellowed pages, and get to it.

* * *

There’s no way in hell I’d show this to either of you so I better be fucking dead or your ass is grass. I’m leaving this here just in case because shit’s getting weird.

I lied about a lot of this to both of you. That kind of thing compounds. Eventually, you have to suck it up and run with it because it’s the new truth you’ve told yourself and everyone close to you so it might as well be real. But it isn’t. Get a snack because we’re taking it from the top. It’s time for my tragic backstory, yo. 

For a long time, it was just Cal and me. I was a kid in the system with no family, no money, and not much of a future. Now I know right about now you must be wondering about our shared parentage. I’m getting there so sit down and shut up. Like I said, I was a kid in the system. A lot of this business started right as I was aging out. Couldn’t get a fucking break for shit. I was working as much as anyone would let me, barely scraping up any dough for when I was truly S.O.L., but a guy has to live a little. There was this diner I would hit up whenever I could. A little place run by a couple that lived above it. The food was great and maybe it was all by association, but It was nice just being there. It was so nice that even after I aged out and didn’t have the scratch to spare anymore, I still went there just to be there. I’d chill with Cal at my side writing my raps, taking in all the sounds and smells like some kind of fucked up pseudo nostalgia. 

At the time, I didn't know how they figured it out, but in hindsight, it was probably fairly obvious that I was one government budget cut away from being on the street. It started out with a “canceled order”. The guy couldn’t let the food just go to waste so it came my way. Lucky break, a one-off, but then a “messed up order” here and an “extra sandwich” there, and before I knew it they had lured me in like a stray cat. Conversation was happening, details shared. I didn’t trust them yet, but I would later. It probably helped that we had the same last name. 

The Striders didn’t take me in or any sappy lifetime made for tv movie bullshit. They didn’t swoop in and save my poor wretched ass like I was little orphan Annie; they couldn't afford to. But they did give a damn. Elizabeth never let me leave the place hungry and David would try to subtly make sure I was staying out of trouble. He wasn’t so good at the subtle part. Then again, I wasn’t rolling with the best crowd. They weren’t the worst either though. That was just the Houston rap scene back in '91; it was what it was. I didn’t get as far as some but I was there trying to make my mark with the best of them. I was doing aight for some punk-ass street kid. DJ Screw was mixing some wicked shit (in more ways than one) and I was drinking it all in (in more ways than one). It could have been a lot worse. Catching me on that purple stuff though, that would have had a lot of folks turning their backs but not the Striders. Got my ass served to me on a platter of “not mad, just disappointed”. Told ‘em I was fine, I hadn’t had a lot, it was just all going to my head 'cause I’d been running from the cops, but they still hauled my ass upstairs and stayed up all night making sure I was still breathing, so maybe I wasn’t so fine. Maybe that’s why I ran to the diner instead of my apartment. From then on David called me ‘son’. Weirdest guilt trip I ever took. Looking back, though, I guess it did me some good having someone to disappoint. They were good people. Gave more fucks than they needed to, more than I was worth.

That and, when I showed up on their doorstep with a kid, they didn’t slam the door in my face. 

I found Dirk on my 20th birthday. Yeah, found. Wipe that look off your face and keep reading. Was minding my own damn business down at the decommissioned reservoir killing a six-pack with Cal when this big fucking meteor comes out of nowhere. So I get my ass down to the waterline to check it out and find a goddamn infant floating on a puppet that looked just like Cal. That wasn’t the only thing bearing a striking Strider resemblance. This kid looked so much like me that Jerry Springer wouldn’t’ve even bothered with a paternity test. The episode would be over as soon as they brought the little bastard on stage. Cal had mixed feelings about it. Took me a while to figure out it was HIS doppelganger that he didn’t like but by then he had other reservations too. 

Anyway, fuck if I know what possessed me but I brought Dirk home. I didn’t have shit. I barely had a place to live. I was in one of those low-income housing blocks, the ones they convert out of old hotels to skirt the rules on how small a room can be before you can’t legally classify it as an apartment. What I did have though, was some prize money I had just won after straight decimating at a rap battle. It wasn’t much, amateur hour stuff, but it was enough to get some essentials. Wasn’t until I had to go to work the next day that I realized what variety of shit I had squarely planted my foot in. Luckily, David and Elizabeth loved Dirk. I told them he was mine because it was extremely believable, unlike what had actually occurred. David and I had an awkward conversation about the virtues of wrapping my dick, but after that, they seemed almost oddly happy to have Dirk around. I wouldn’t find out until later that they’d been trying for years. 

It was only a few months after that that I met your aunt Roxanne. Surprise surprise, she's not really you're aunt. If the both of you are reading this, Dirk, tell your brother to stop being a dramatic little bitch and sit the fuck down before he wears a path in the carpet. Anyway, things weren’t great but they hadn’t gotten worse. I was still struggling to make ends meet and my music hadn’t taken off yet, but it wasn’t just Cal and me anymore, and there was something nice about that. I had a gig that night, nothing major, just opening for some up-and-comer. It paid though and it got my name out there. Dirk was being a little fussy that night. It was taking longer than usual to put him down so I left later than I intended. Roxanne walked into the diner during those few extra minutes. There was something mysterious about her that made her stick in my mind. 

She was also hard to miss in the crowd. Stuck out like a sore thumb, but not in the way that the narcs did. She knew she didn't belong there and she didn't seem to care. You'd've thought people would give her a hard time but they didn't. She had an agenda for sure but there was a certain type of confidence about her that had others operating on the "I'll mind my own business until you make it my business" rule. At some point during my set, she disappeared. I didn't give a fuck; I had mix tapes to promo in the parking lot. I actually sold a lot of them that night. That and a favor got me some much needed new equipment from one of my boys. I knew his stuff was hot but there was no way I could afford anything legit. It was all jerry-rigged and slapped together, but there was some charm in that. 

I was packing up my shit when Roxanne approached me. It was a classic exchange. She asked if I was Broderick Strider and I asked her who wanted to know. Only the Striders and the authorities called me Broderick. She just laughed, handed me her business card, and said she had some questions for me about the recent astronomical phenomenon whenever I was ready to give her the answers. Before I could tell her off she was already walking away. It would be years until I spoke to her again.

Things were picking up after that but it was slower than I would have liked. My music was getting attention but not enough to get me out of that box of an apartment. The place was barely big enough to hold a mattress and my gear. It wasn’t even a real setup. I had that stuff up on stolen milk crates and garbage plywood. Didn’t even have an extra chair. I would sit on the edge of the mattress and mix with Dirk in my lap and Cal slung over my shoulders. I remember thinking at the time that Cal being jealous was funny. He didn’t like how I’d take Dirk with me everywhere I could. He especially didn’t like it when I made him a tiny pair of shades and put him in a t-shirt that said “li'l bro”. Couldn’t argue with tape sales though. Chicks really dug it. Whether they thought I was his brother or his daddy didn’t matter; technically I wasn’t either. Among the guys I hung around with, it got to be that we called him lil’ bro so often that some forgot he wasn’t. It ain’t really surprising that when it came time for Dirk to start talking that he was calling me “Bo”. Things were going good for a while, slow, but good.

And then just as it was coming together, it all started going to hell again. It was one thing after another. A buddy of mine got locked up on a bullshit charge, I had to cut ties with another one because he was getting into some high key sketchy shit, [a guy I used to get fucked up with ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24801043) got in a bad way and OD'd, then I lost my day job, and to top off that three-tier shit cake Dirk got sick and I didn't have health insurance. For once I was buying cough syrup for its intended purpose. I don't know what he had but it lasted for over a week and he gave it to me about halfway through. It was miserable. I forget if I had ever given the Striders my address but David showed up at the door looking for us a few days into it and not long after that did Elizabeth come by with some soup. I remember her saying that the customers were just going to have to deal with the soup of the day being chicken noodle until her boys got better. She said it just like that; she called us her boys.

I had already thought about it once or twice before, but that was when I took it seriously. That was when I really looked at everything around me and looked at Dirk and knew what needed doing. It wouldn’t be that much of a dynamic stretch. Dirk already called Elizabeth “Mama” half the time and turning “Davey” into “Daddy” wouldn’t be hard. They could take better care of Dirk. They didn't have much, but they could get him all the stuff he needed, take him to the doctor when he was sick, give him his own room, the works. And unlike if the state snatched him up, the Striders would’ve still let me see him sometimes. I had it all planned out. I waited until it was our birthdays. We were going to the diner to celebrate. Dirk was turning three and I was turning twenty-three. I was going to ask them after Dirk had come down from his cake high and tuckered himself out. Never got that far.

We were only a block away when the sky turned that same fire red color it had the day I found Dirk. Cal was excited, I remember feeling that. We hurried over but I knew it wouldn’t make a difference. The place was leveled. I told Cal to cover Dirk’s eyes while I waded through the rubble. Before I found them though, I found Dave. He wasn’t a carbon copy of me like Dirk was, and he came with a pony instead of a puppet, but he was another easy case for Jerry Springer. I don't remember much more of that day. I know I got us all back to that shithole apartment and chugged the leftover Robitussin, something I had managed to stay off of for a while up until then, but beyond that is a mystery. The next coherent sequence of events I would have recall of was digging through a box of business cards looking for Roxanne's number. She said she had been expecting me to call. I didn't like that but I kept my mouth shut. I now had significantly more problems than resources and was banking on this mystery woman for I didn't even know what. She told me things had already been arranged, that all I needed to do was pack a bag and hop a flight, the tickets were already under my name. I didn't have many other choices so two days later we flew all the way up to New York. 

Roxanne told me that there were more meteor kids. She had two and there were four other confirmed cases with more speculated. Skaianet Systems employed her to track the meteors but only a select few people knew why. That wasn’t the only thing she did despite her job description. I would find out later that her benefactor would send her weird tech to reverse engineer. Us three, we were a special case. The others were connected, but we were off the grid. She liked that; her benefactor liked that. We had the potential to be useful. She thought we were worth preserving as a whole. She wanted to keep us together. There were rules though. I had to keep us in Houston, I couldn’t buy anything made by Betty Crocker (that threw me a little not gonna lie), and I needed to be ready if I was called on. I was being played and I knew I was being played, but what choice did I have? I either went along with it or wound up on the street while pushing both of you into the system that put me there. 

She set us up with everything we needed. We stayed in the guest wing for a few weeks while preparations were made and I cleared my head a little. This whole thing was going to be the last nail in the coffin for my music career so I used the time to look into getting a better day job. I would still do my music thing but it was looking like it would always just be a side gig. For a little while though, money wouldn't be an issue. Dave needed a birth certificate in the first place and while she was at it, Roxanne had all our records changed. She even had my arrests purged. As far as the government knew, we were all David and Elizabeth’s kids and always had been. Not only did it give me custody, it gave me an inheritance. David had life insurance. It wasn’t anything crazy but it was more than I’d ever had. Make no mistake, It was a cold and disrespectful thing to do. Roxanne didn’t say as much but I think she agreed. According to her, the matter was out of our hands. 

It was unreal at first. I went from what was effectively a closet to having multiple rooms and money for actual furniture to put in them. Wasn’t about to go crazy or nothing. Some things were to stretch the budget but other things, pure aesthetics. Cinder blocks never go out of style. Plus, Dirk was going through clothes like water, and now I was buying pampers and formula again. Kids are expensive. Luckily, once again I managed to wind up with a babysitter. This one did charge, but not much and she lives next door. I made up for it by doing things that were difficult or cumbersome for her in her old age. We got on well too, so that helped. She has a massive doll collection and thinks Cal is cool. We’d talk shop sometimes. Gave me some good sewing tips that came in handy for when I started up that custom puppet site. It’s starting to rake in some actual money now. Anyway, things were looking up. I wasn’t where I had imagined I’d be as a twentysomething but it wasn’t bad. I’d even go as far as to say that for a couple years, things were good.

It's at this point that I'm going to give y'all one last chance to bail should I not in fact be among the dearly departed and you're reading this under my nose. 

Good. Now that we've established that I am either deceased or going to whoop your asses at an unspecified time and place, let's get to the weird part. Dave, you were probably too little then but Dirk, you might remember when I first started getting headaches. They weren't that bad in the beginning but then they started putting me out of commission for entire days like I was hungover as fuck. Huh, now that I think about it, my actual hangovers are preferable. Regardless, I didn’t think too much of it then. Light sensitivity comes with the weird eyes territory. Then Roxanne contacted me for the first time in a long while. She needed me to hold onto something. Said that her benefactor (the renowned billionaire, explorer, and inventor Jake Harley as it turns out) had died in a freak accident some months ago and she needed to keep something safe, keep something off the grid. It took a lot of pressing and a few threats but eventually, I got her to clue me in some. It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. She told me that Betty Crocker was a front for something more nefarious. They had been stealing confidential tech info from Skaianet for some time and she didn’t want them getting a hold of this. I had to go pick it up in person at her lab. 

I’m half convinced she slipped me something. We used this transportalizer thing to get in and it only got weirder from there. The tech she works with is bizarre, almost alien. I thought it was, but she said it wasn’t Alternian. I didn’t fully believe her at the time and I still have my doubts. She got real defensive when I asked about this book she had out. Beat up looking thing. It had that weird writing those trolls use, handwritten in dark red ink. Then as we were talking, she disappeared into thin air and reappeared seconds later looking wide-eyed like she was rethinking everything. Scribbled something on a box, shoved it at me, and told me to get out. The thing was full of diskettes but nothing I had would read them. 

While this was all plenty strange as fuck, what was more worrisome was when I started knowing things I had no reason to be knowing, thinking thoughts that didn’t feel like they belonged to me. They’re leaving me hazier and hazier. Sometimes It’s getting to be like I’m taking a backseat to myself. Cal keeps telling me not to worry though. He says that it's important stuff we're doing, says that it’s all going to work out as long as we keep at it, as long as I listen to him. 

Y’all are just kids right now and probably wouldn’t believe me if I told you all of this. I think though that you might need to know someday and the way things are going I’m not sure if I’ll be able to tell you when that time comes. I think I might only be meant to get you ready. I'm still trying to figure out for what. Cal and I both are. He’s been more talkative recently. Maybe all this shit is just making me paranoid but I swear he’s moving on his own now too. That can’t be right. 

So, as lame and corny as all this stuff is, I’m leaving it here just in case I'm either right or I really am fucking losing it. I’m sure as shit not perfect to begin with and I’m probably fucking you both up on a monumental scale, but If that’s what‘s happening here, either way... let’s just say I don't expect you to forgive me. 

* * *

You slowly set down the pages, smoothing them out when they spring back up even though they just do it again. It’s a lot to take in and you aren’t sure which part to process first. Perhaps none of it! You stand up and calmly walk over to the futon. You need to lie down for a while.


	15. Chapter 33: Brotherly Love

# ==> Dave: Bask in the limelight 

“Hey, hey, settle down, there’s enough Strider for everyone,” you say as a bunch of Dersites crowd around you for a chance at scoring one of the miniature prints of your latest piece that you’re handing out. When you started running around your moon snapping photos of the murals, you quickly saw the potential for a lot of cool shots and maybe got a little sidetracked. It was a good kind of sidetracked, though. It was the kind of sidetracked that leads to opportunity because as it happens, your moon has a gallery and that gallery has a darkroom and these little dudes really want you to use the darkroom to put stuff in that gallery. It’s like it was made for you. In fact, that’s actually a distinct possibility now that you think about it. Judging by the murals that you continue to find and capture via the power of film, it would seem that this place is, in some aspects, tailored to you and your friends. 

When you've exhausted the stack of photos, you step aside and smirk as the chess people immediately start pouring in to check out the new pieces and revisit the ones that have already been up for a few days. The gallery is made up of two floors. The main area is a large open space with several freestanding three-quarter walls to maximize hanging space, and then off to one side of the room, there is a spiral staircase that leads upstairs to a smaller open area littered with mismatched chairs. In the back of that room is a compact (but overly ornate like everything else here) projection booth and an old fashioned slide projector. It's been all hells of useful. You had printed out the first batch of murals on photo paper, and have still done a few more that way, but even on the largest size, they're still pretty small. Most of the details come through just fine, but it's easier to see them projected up on the wall-sized screen (also overly ornate with a big fancy baroque style frame around it). You've never made slides before but thankfully it looks like YouTube also works out here. Speaking of the darkroom, you found it behind a door right off to the side of the projection booth. It had everything you needed which was as useful as it was creepy. There was even a lense in there to upgrade your old camera to be more comparable to the one you left behind in the land of the living. 

The door to this room doesn't have a man trap or a lock, but it doesn't seem to be a problem. The room it's connected to is mostly dark and the chess dudes don't go in there...most of them any way you think. You haven't had anything disappear from the darkroom yet, but you have had some of the slides and photos in the gallery disappear. Because of that, you've been keeping close tabs on what you have out and keeping the negatives in your sylladex. Some of the Dersites seem less than fond of you and barring you having lost your mind, there isn't anyone else to suspect taking them. 

It's strange. All of the Prospitains seemed thrilled about you being there but on Derse it's a different story. Their opinion of you seems to vary from excitement to begrudging tolerance. You'll have to ask Jade about it later. Periodically you've been trying to pester her but you can't tell the difference between her being online when she's awake or when she's asleep.

Once you’ve had enough of being in the spotlight, you hang around in the darkroom for a bit, putting some aerial shots up to dry on the line before peacing out. Hal is off exploring the planet again today so that leaves you to your own devices. You were already planetside earlier to visit Dirk again so instead you leisurely float over to Rose’s tower. She’s not much for conversation what with being unconscious but she’s easy to ramble at. You talk endlessly while you pace around her tower touching all her stuff. Half the time you aren’t even really paying attention to the words coming out of your mouth, tuning in and out of your own monolog. You’re fiddling with a ball of yarn when it slips out of your hand and rolls across the floor, completely derailing your train of thought. You sigh, the loneliness closing in on you again now that your bubble of distraction has suddenly been popped. 

“Man, how long has it been anyway?” you ask as you retrieve the wayward ball of string from where it rolled off to. You could easily check your phone and find out what day it is but you’re almost afraid to look. Whether it’s been days or weeks, either outcome is horrifying for different reasons. You give the yarn ball a little toss in your hand, and one more just a bit higher. Then with an impulsive glimmer of fraternal-like mischief, you chuck it at your cousin. Instantly your shoulders hike up. You didn’t mean to bonk her on the head. It’s not as funny when she isn’t awake to retali--

“Mmm?” Her shoulders shift, slightly at first, but then slowly she pushes herself up to lean on her elbow. “Dave?” she asks in a tired voice. You’re frozen to the spot. “Another dream, and a terribly lucid one at that. I think I much prefer the illusion lasting until I awaken.” She starts to lie back down and it’s only then that your feet come unglued from the floor.

“No, wait! It’s not a dream! Rose!” She’s already gone again by the time you come crashing down to your knees at her bedside. “Don’t go back to sleep." You stare at her with brows drawn tight and slightly parted lips pulled into a grimace of disbelief. You were so close. “Please, wake up," you say with completely unveiled desperation in your voice as you shake her shoulder. "Don’t leave me alone here. Rose, please. Rose...” Nothing, not even a murmur. At a loss for what else to do, you hold her hand between yours and rest your forehead against the silky comforter of her bed. She has to wake up again soon right? You don’t just temporarily wake up here and then go comatose again; you wake up and then you’re here every time you go to sleep. That’s how it works, right? So you wait. You stay there for hours, shifting position only when your legs go pins and needles, but never leaving her side. She’ll wake up the moment you leave, you just know it, because that’s the kind of luck you have. At some point, you yourself nod off too. 

#  ==> Be Roxy

It’s dark out by the time the taxi pulls up to your house. The driver looks pretty disgruntled to be out this far but his tune changes when he sees that you aren’t stiffing him on the tip. Not that you would but if you did, word would spread pretty fast and it’d be impossible to get any delivery people out here. Taillights disappear into the distance. You take a long hard swig from your flask and brace for the possibility of an encounter with your mother as you make your way up to the house. 

It’s quiet. The lights are off too except for the glowing orbs held by several wizard statues. You dig em but keep that opinion to yourself lest you alienate your sister or give your mother the satisfaction. You make your first matter of business to dump your stuff in a pile in the middle of your room and are about to make your second priority a nice bubble bath when you notice that you don’t have any towels in your bathroom. It’s an extremely mild inconvenience to walk down the hall to the linen closet but after the time you’ve had recently, it feels like much more than that for your relaxation to be delayed even a moment longer. You utter an “uggh” under your breath and shuffle back out to the hall. There’s a sliver of light spilling out into the otherwise dark space that wasn’t there before, telling you that Rose’s door is slightly ajar. You’re trying to decide whether or not you have the mental energy to bug her, but when you faintly hear her speak, your mind is made up.

“Dave? Can you hear me? Dave?” There is a less than stellar, almost wavering quality to her voice that has you pushing open her door without announcing yourself. She jumps and quickly tries to shove something out of sight, the urgency of the action lessening when she sees that it’s you and not your mother. 

"You okay?" Rose is sitting on the floor with a good foot between her and her laptop. She has a few candles lit nearby which isn’t that unusual but you think that they may have been for more than decoration. The object she was getting ready to violently shove under her bed is an ouija board. 

“For the record, I didn’t seriously think it would work,” she defensively clarifies as you quietly shut the door and come down to sit beside her. 

“Can you imagine if it did?” you ask with a forced smile. You get an equally manufactured one from your sister. You scoot closer and pull Rose into your side where she slumps against you. After a stretch of silence only permeated by the crackle of wood wicks, you try to shift the subject. “Working on your novel, huh?” You gesture toward her laptop.

“No, that’s the file I had given Dave access to. It’s glitched. It thinks he’s still editing it so it won’t open for me." Well shit, that backfired. "It really isn't a big deal. I have the file saved elsewhere so I was able to re-upload it for Karkat to review, but I--” She takes a steadying breath. “It would have been nice to read the last few comments Dave wrote.” You aren’t sure how to dig yourself out of this one so lucky for you, Rose continues after only a short pause. “It’s kind of funny if you think about it. He was always locking me out of files when we would use them to pass notes. He’d forget to sign out and would just leave the app open in the background.” 

“I remember that." There's a sad sort of nostalgia to your voice as you recall the memories. "This one time, we were sitting in the cafeteria and I got to witness Sollux confiscate his phone for the sole purpose of closing all his apps. Never seen someone swipe so fast.” You may have also said something rude about thumb action, but you keep that bit of recall to yourself. There’s a weak chuckle between you. 

“How is Sollux doing? Do you know? Karkat didn’t answer me last I asked and given his reaction of immediately signing off, I’m not certain if I should ask Kanaya.” 

“Karkat’s been keeping me posted on the big stuff. I’ve heard a few things from Nepeta too. The word seems to be that Sollux isn’t great but he’s coming around a little. They have him doing some kind of special therapy. He’s sort of moving again, they got him eating mostly on his own and stuff, but he’s still not really interacting with anything." Rose makes an 'mmm' sound of acknowledgment.

"I assume Dirk is more or less the same as I last saw him?"

"Yeah, except now he has something to focus on. I don't know if it's helping or hurting."

"Perhaps a bit of both, although I don't think he can truly begin dealing with...with Dave's passing until he sorts through his feelings about Bro. Do you think he’ll find what he's looking for?" You suddenly sit up straighter and turn to face her. With everything going on you neglected to mention the finer details of cleaning out the apartment. Rose gives you a quizzical look that turns into one of curiosity as you tell her about all the weird shit you found.

"...and last I left him he was taking down the psychosis collage and putting it on poster board.”

“Interesting,” Rose says with a hum and a tap of her laptop’s trackpad as she begins navigating the information dumping ground that the beehouse server has become. “Our mother’s company is not known for its transparency. I assume that you and Dirk have considered that Bro’s obsession, regardless of root, is why our families ceased contact?” 

“Yeah, that was the first thing solid enough to make it into the ‘likely’ category.”

“You are not going to like what I have to suggest.” Oh, you think you know what it is and Rose is right about not liking it.

“Ask Mom?”

Rose nods in confirmation. You decide this is a job for future-you because current-you has a date with the bubble bath. On a whim, you decide this date could use some wine, so you make a detour back downstairs to rifle through your mother’s wine rack. You don’t agree on many things but you do agree on what constitutes a nice Merlot. You’ve all but settled on a bottle when a voice breaks the silence.

“The good bottles are in the cabinet.” You halt your movements and turn slowly to see her at the bar pouring a nightcap. You didn’t bother turning on the lights so she’s only lit by the ambient glow of a nearby wizard orb. Stubbornly, you grab the nearest bottle in front of you. She knows they’re all good. Your mother doesn’t buy bad wine. You’re just about to slink off when she speaks up again, foiling your attempt to abscond. “How was your trip?” You turn to see her setting down a glass for you. Great.

“I wouldn’t exactly call it a trip and considering someone died, I’d say pretty poorly.” You punctuate your sentence by expertly popping the wine cork. 

“You stayed longer than Rose,” she says, taking a sip of her drink. You think it’s some kind of counter to your statement until she continues. “Assisting Dirk I assume?” You don’t like the way she says that like she already knows you were and is just trying to take a cheap win.

“Bro had a lot of junk to throw out.”

“Doubtlessly. He was a disturbed man with disturbing hobbies. He was dedicated though, I’ll give him that much.”

“Tch, dedicated to being an asshole.”

"You sound so certain for someone who never met the man." She has that smug look of secrets on her face again.

"If he was such a delight, then why'd you stop talking to him? Why didn't you tell us he existed, hmmm?" you ask, humming the last bit of your question on the edge of the wine glass. She never did give you a straight answer about that. The woman has the gall to shrug at you and swirl the contents of her glass.

"If I didn't want you to know he existed, you wouldn't." You roll your eyes at the idea of your mother keeping information like public records from you. "Broderick was paranoid, maybe even in the clinical sense. I knew from the moment I met him that something wasn’t right.” You furrow your brows at the odd phrasing. “He's the one who broke contact. He thought I was-" she throws back the rest of her drink and starts pouring another. "-keeping things from him as if he were entitled to knowing everything. He knew enough." Your mother does this. She says things like this and it's a trap for you to ask what the hell she means by it, so that she can further lord your not knowing over you. 

"Whatever," you say before finishing off your glass and getting to your feet. This conversation hasn't gone entirely south yet and you'd like to escape before it does.

“Before you go,” 

You dead stop, close your eyes and sigh deeply. “What?”

“Don’t take that tone with me. I have a simple question.”

“Which is what?” Oh god, not this again. You pivot on your heel to face her. She’ll never answer you otherwise.

“You always have to have an attitude, don’t you? For once will you just listen to me?” 

“Can you just get on with it already? What did you want?”

“Nevermind, I can see that you’re in a mood. I’ll inquire with Dirk tomorrow.”

“Oh my god. What? What is it?! Just tell me what already!”

“Fine. If you’re going to throw a fit over it, Broderick had something that didn’t belong to him and I want it back. It’s property of Skaianet Systems.”

“If you don’t tell me what it is, I swear to god--”

“It’s an array of discs.”

“See! Now was that so fucking hard?”

“Perhaps you should go to bed, Roxy. You seem overtired.” This woman is impossible. You storm off, roughly grabbing a towel out of the linen closet on your way back to your room, and chug a good amount of whatever red you grabbed straight from the bottle while you wait for the tub to fill. 

#  ==> Dave: Wake up

You wake up slowly to the sound of someone saying your name. A nudge to your shoulder has you coming around more quickly and when you hear her voice again you’re suddenly wide awake. 

“Don’t go back to sleep!” you hurriedly say as you clamor up to sit on the edge of Rose’s bed and hold onto her shoulders as if it will anchor her here. She looks at you strangely.

“But...I am asleep, aren’t I? This is just another dream.”

“No, I mean, yeah, you’re asleep, but also not. This isn’t a dream. Rose, it’s me. It’s really me.” 

“That can’t be right. You’re dead.” Her lips press into a thin line as she looks away. She doesn’t believe you. “This is just a vivid dream brought on by the grieving process. Stage two of seven if we’re being specific.” You let go of her and shrink back. All this time you’ve been waiting for Dirk to wake up, so you never came up with a plan for making someone believe you’re really you.

“How can I prove it isn’t a dream?”

“I’m not sure but if I did know, it wouldn’t be wise of me to tell you.”

You swallow hard and open your mouth to say more before shutting it without a word and looking down to stare at your hands. How do you make her believe you? What if you can’t? What if that’s something that can make her go back to sleep like before? “Fuck, even if you don’t believe me could you-- could you just pretend you do?” your voice starts to falter the more you speak. “Just don’t--” You take a sharp breath. “Just don’t go.” 

“I suppose I could. It will surely pain me deeply later but...it might be nice in the moment to pretend for a while.” You can already hear the hurt in her voice.

“Thanks,” You say with a nod as you selfishly accept her acceptance of your request. You take a deep gulp of air. “Rose, I’m gonna make it weird for a sec.”

“This is already plenty strange but alright. What are you-- oh.” You move quickly, throwing your arms around her and burying your head against her shoulder. You take another sharp draw of air and hold your breath. “Dave? Are you alright? You’re shaking.”

“Yeah. It’s-- it’s cool. So cool. I’m-- I--.” You can’t get the words out.

“You're having an anxiety attack,” She realizes, her voice laced with confusion as she hesitantly brings her arms up to lightly wrap around you as if she’s afraid they’ll pass right through your body.

“Kinda. Yeah.” You hold her tighter and gulp down more air as you try to keep yourself from completely flipping off the handle.

“It’s okay.” Her hands smooth over your back, more confident in your physical presence. “I suppose I’m so hesitant to believe that it’s really you because I would very much like that to be true.” Even if you could answer her right now, you wouldn’t know what to say to that. “Perhaps, if you can calm down a bit, you could tell me about where we are and I can try to keep an open mind. Would that suffice?” You nod your head in response and try to take deep even breaths. Slowly but surely it passes. You breathe easier, you stop shaking, your grip on Rose goes from vice-like to something more casual, and the embarrassment sets in. 

"Sorry bout that," you say when you finally pull away and pick your head up to look around the room. "Shit's been fuckin wack lately. Dying sucked for a lot of reasons and most of y'all are asleep and I dunno, I guess I kinda freaked out there for a minute." 

"I imagine it's been just as difficult for you as it has been for us. You're dearly missed, you know."

"Yeah?" You turn to look at her again and rub the back of your neck.

"Mhm," she hums with a nod. "Are you aware of what happened to your brother? To Bro, is what I mean to say."

"Yeah, I know what happened. Jade filled me in on that and the internet works here in a read-only way, so I read about it too. The Houston Chronicle could have been a little kinder." You realize Rose is staring at you in a way that makes you think she's gauging your response. "I'm not sure if I'm glad exactly that he's dead but at least he can't hurt anyone anymore." There is a subtle shift in her expression. She was waiting for that part, to see if you really knew or if you were just bullshitting. "If you're testing me, using knowledge you already know isn't going to work."

"That is true. Although, I did also genuinely want to know if you knew. So, Jade is here too? I'm glad to hear you aren't alone."

"Well, she is but she's far away so I can't just pop by for a quick how you do. It takes a while to get to Prossspit. Hal is here though."

"Is he really?" 

"Yeah, oh man, you should see him. They tied a balloon to him, lets him do his own thing, but it's high key ridiculous looking. But don't tell him I said that." Rose chuckles behind a soft smile and motions as if to zip her lip. 

Unlike Jade, you give Rose a heads up about the flight deal before the two of you leave the tower. You show her around, launching into a cheesy tour guide schtick for a bit. It shakes off some of the lingering awkwardness and for a while, you forget that she still isn't sure that you're not a figment of her imagination. You tell her all about the moons and towers, who is in them, and how there's more of you on Prossspit. Then you realize you haven't explained the whole two planet thing so you ramble about that while you walk around the moon at street level so she can get an eyeful of the architecture that you know is right up her alley being all gothic and mystical and shit. You’re already halfway to the gallery when you notice where your legs are taking you. 

“Dave, these are beautiful,” Rose says as she wanders around from photograph to photograph. 

“It’s nothing.” You nonchalantly shrug off the compliment and continue to stroll beside her. “I was just fuckin around.” You tried so hard. 

“No, really, I mean it. The angles, the color, composition..." She pauses at a diptych style piece featuring your moirail. The shots are mirrored images of his sleeping forms on Prossspit and Derse, bathed in the soft glow of Dawn and Dusk. You had to take a million shots to get them just right. “it’s...something I would never think of.” She turns to you then, and slowly reaches up to gently remove your shades. Violet eyes lock with your own. You can feel the weight of her gaze as she searches for your soul. “It really is you, isn’t it?” You’ve never seen Rose cry. You aren’t sure if they’re tears of joy or sadness, but they slip silently down her face in neat rivers before she wipes them away with a strange amount of grace. “How do we get you back?”

“I don’t know. We were banking on Dirk having some answers but I can’t get him to wake up. His medication is keeping him asleep.”

“I could tell him to stop taking it.”

“I hate to be the bear beast of unwelcome and unfortunate tidings, but you aren’t going to remember this well enough to do that. Jade’s been trying to tell y'all about me since the night I died.”

"It's bearer, not bear."

"Hm?"

"The phrase is bearer of bad news, not bear."

"Are you shitting me?"

"Not in the least. The amount to which I am not shitting you is of medical concern. I may need a colonoscopy." For a beat, you stare blankly at each other before simultaneously cracking a smile. It's a short but welcomed reprieve. 

You aren't sure how much longer she'll be asleep, so you keep it low key and start walking to Dark Starbucks. Rose asks what will happen if she falls asleep outside her tower and you tell her not to worry, she'll transportalize back to her dream bed. It's only moments later that her gait slows to a stop and she announces that she thinks she's waking up. The sentence barely leaves her lips before, with a 'pop', she vanishes.

turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering gardenGnostic [GG]

TG: testing 1 2 3

TG: finally

TG: yo jade

GG: hi dave!

GG: sorry its been so hard to predict when im online here

GG: i havent been sleeping very regularly :(

TG: its chill i get it

TG: so since you and rose are talking up a storm lately what with me basically haunting your dreams i take it youve noticed a change

GG: hmm now that you mention it she did seem a little different

TG: shes awake 

GG: !!!

GG: really???

TG: yeah

GG: i wonder if shell be able to remember more since shes a seer or if that would be a mind thing

TG: i have no idea what that means but i guess well find out

TG: did you just wake up 

TG: i was thinking of making the trek over again to grab some more shots of prossspit 

TG: gotta sate my adoring public

GG: yep, and i havent slept for more than an hour in days so i should be asleep for a while this time

TG: thats gotta suck

TG: i knew me being over there all the time wasnt doing you any favors but it seems like even dropping by stresses you out

GG: yeah i guess but...

GG: its still nice to see you :) 

GG: prossspits moon should be in line with skaia soon so maybe something will stick with the visions

TG: goddamnit

GG: ??

TG: i was switching windows and closed all my apps

TG: eh it was probably time i did that anyway if every single person i know telling me to do that more than once an equinox is anything to go by

GG: i thought you couldnt do that on iphone

TG: huh 

TG: ya know i think youre right

TG: see this is the problem with knowing too many tech savvy people

TG: its like a full blown game of clue to figure out who hacked me in the student lounge with a candlestick

TG: oh hey on a completely different note not even vaguely related to my previous statement on account of my train of thought jumping tracks like it was designed by whatever god descended from the heavens to give us tony hawk pro skater 2

TG: what ever happen to that voyerbot of yours

TG: doesnt that thing straight up record your dreams

GG: voyerbot??

TG: the dreambot

GG: im not sure what youre talking about :/

TG: crap right i forgot

TG: you have no idea what that is when youre asleep

TG: anyway

TG: if you still wanna chill ill be over as soon as i find hal

GG: okay, see you soon :D

turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering gardenGnostic [GG]

#  ==> Be Dirk

You wake up on the floor again. Beside you, just beyond your reach is a pill bottle with its contents strewn across the dingey carpet. You had stayed up all night and it was midday by the time you realized you had forgotten to take your medication. The last thing you remember was getting the lid open. After that, it was the sea of black again. There were no whispers this time but you could feel yourself slowly coming together like molecules falling into place. 

You half-wonder if you should even bother putting the little white pills back into the bottle or if you should just throw them out. They seem to be helping less and less. The thought feels just as comfortable in your mind as the first time you thought it. Was it really so bad anyway? Sure, you’d lose hours at a time to a half-conscious daze, and sometimes you’d wake up in a different place than you remembered being, plus Hal never had any idea what you were talking about when you tried to tell him what you could recall, which makes sense but concerned you regardless. But other than being incredibly unnerving in what a gigantic red flag it was regarding your mental health, was it really all that bad? If you’re going to be slipping unconscious anyway, you might as well go full tilt if only for the control it will give you. You never remember feeling quite this helpless to your episodes. That and, you never used to just fucking drop. One bad fall and you’re fucked. Still, you aren’t sure. You feel like you’re forgetting something important, so you leave the pills where they are on the living room floor. Before you resume what you were doing prior to blacking out, you do a little recap to shake off the lingering confusion. 

##  ==> Dirk: review what the fuck you’ve been up to

After spending a long time staring at the ceiling you decided that unless you could find something concrete, you were going to have to write off Bro’s letter as a sign that you may need to get your head examined in case this shit’s hereditary. 

The first stone you turned over was the mystery of your “parents”. It took barely any research to confirm that the familial-esque photograph you found in the box was indeed them, but there’s no way they were your biological parents. You just don't look even remotely alike. Not even if you squint. That may seem like a point in favor of Bro’s story, but there is a very reasonable and easily concluded explanation for them not looking like you. It is entirely possible that Bro was actually your father and had an open adoption with this couple. If the letter has any truth to it, your bro didn’t have his shit together back then. Maybe more so than his story lets on. Hell, maybe his last name wasn’t even always Strider. He could have changed it later to match yours and Dave’s. You made a note to have Roxy look into that later. Birth certificates aren’t the easiest thing to pull history on and Social services has a lockdown on adoption records. That’s not to say you couldn’t get in there, but Roxy could doubtlessly do it faster. 

Next up were the basics about your “parents”. Everything checked out. They owned a diner in downtown Houston and died in a freak meteorological accident the day Dave was born. Another strike against them being your biological parents, or at least Dave’s. It’s not necessarily a win for Bro’s story either. It still fits the previously proposed scenario of Bro being both your and Dave’s father. Although it did rule out the Striders having adopted Dave. This had made you revisit the name changing theory. If Dave was born with the last name Strider, then Bro would have had to have changed his name prior to the Strider’s death which would have been pretty weird, so maybe they did just happen to have the same surname. It’s possible. It’s not like it’s particularly rare and Bro had implied that the coincidence may have influenced his trusting of them. 

Their obituary was also curious but ultimately inconclusive. You couldn’t find it online. You had to walk your ass down to the public library and sift through the microfiche archive. When you found it, it made no mention of you or either of your brothers. It said they “left behind no blood relatives but would be dearly missed by the community they called family”. Then again, it could have been some good ol’ fashion Texas views (read: racism) on interracial families that excluded you from the article and had them using the specific wording of “blood relatives”. Would have been a stone-cold slight against them from a community that supposedly valued them, but you wouldn’t doubt it could happen.

Despite the work you put into it, after all that, the only concrete thing you had about your parentage is that Bro lied about it. He always told you that they had died in a house fire and that's why there were no pictures of them. He said everything went up in smoke. So did he lie because he didn’t want to admit he was a junkie who had a kid and couldn’t handle it, or because he lost so many friends all at once and had a psychotic break, or did this crazy shit actually go down? You figured the answer to that would lie in your actual connection to the Lalondes. You still figure it might because while Roxanne Lalonde has had a prolific career as a scientist, you couldn't find a damn thing about her private life. And it isn’t a possibility that you’re her nephew by marriage either. Roxy has told you that she and Rose are test-tube babies. It’s a statement she usually follows with the words “failed experiments” in one way or another.

With those leads dried up, you proceeded to send Jake what was probably far too lengthy of a message in far too many parts at far too early an hour. The daunting wall of text was regarding his grandfather and your theories on this whole Bro business, but you had also periodically peppered in some ill-advised self-deprecating comments about your relationship. It was impressive really. After that, you turned to sifting through the box of additional clippings and scraps. It yielded some odd things. Some of the articles had writing on them in the form of largely incoherent notes. You found one on a print-out about the court case Sollux had been involved in a few years ago. On the front, Bro had circled Sollux’s sign and the sign of the girl sitting next to him. On the back, it said “same as book. same as box,”. It wasn’t the only clipping from that case with circled signs. It wasn’t the only thing involving troll signs either. In that same layer of papers, you found pamphlets for a couple of colleges in the northwest. They had more signs written on them. Some matched the ones from the court case but all of them were on the conspiracy board. You were making a mental note to check out who those signs belonged to when you saw something else stuck inside one of the brochures. It was a letter from the same college John goes to. Dave had been accepted as a music major. Your brain was fucking swimming at that point but you kept digging. Bro was up to something. He had plans and was about to set something into motion when you rocked the boat by apparently sending Dave to the wrong side of the country. 

And speaking of you, you found some interesting receipts. You call them receipts instead of notes on account of the monetary exchange that is implied by the word “hired” in these statements about Bro hiring people to kick the shit out of but not kill you. Among some other things, they were all loose papers in a manila envelope labeled “Abroad Training” as if you were doing some international schooling. You recalled some of these fights. Jake had a fucking existential crisis over one of them when he choked like a deer in the headlights instead of swooping in to save you like his idols would have. You wondered what kind of details Bro gave these guys about you. Did he warn them about your skills or did they think they were getting paid to jump some run of the mill guy? You didn’t put any of them in the ground but you weren’t gentle. Especially after looting a crowbar abstratus off that dude with the glass jaw. You had kind of figured Bro was behind these, maybe not all of the fights you ever wound up in, but at least a good chunk of them. Even so, to have it confirmed was...well, you knew it should be anger that you were feeling but it was something of a ghost image and came across more like a chafing irritation. 

You spent a good forty-five minutes sitting on the floor wondering what other things Bro had done to you that he considered to be “Abroad Training” but weren’t worth keeping a record of. Was everything training? Was some stuff simply to fuck with you or was he keeping you on your toes so you didn’t go soft? Perhaps both? You had always thought a lot of it was to keep you away, to make it difficult for you to come back or contact Dave. Was it part of his plan to separate you for a purpose beyond his belief that you were dooming Dave’s future with your influence? And what of the animosity between you? Saying you got on each other’s nerves regularly would be an understatement, but could some of it have been a more tactical approach to push you away rather than genuine hate? And then when you still wouldn’t leave... 

You weren’t sure what to think. It was about then that your head started feeling foggy and your vision was getting hazy at the edges. At least you were sitting down that time when you passed out. Now you’re sitting out on the fire escape, chain-smoking, and thinking about those last few months you spent here.

You had argued your way into him tolerating your presence until graduation. It bought you some time to work on Hal’s body, but you were cutting it down to the wire and when it kept failing at crunch time, you got frustrated. It isn’t hard to see why you did what you did. You were a dumb kid with problems and you needed an outlet. Honestly, it makes perfect sense the way you were rebelling, sneaking into bars, staying out late, looking for anyone to take your jailbait ass home and relieve some of your tension. It was something you had done from time to time before but the extra stress had you overdoing it. You got reckless, and not just with your taste in men. You stopped bothering to sneak into your bedroom window before sun up. You came right through the front door, staring down Bro at 5 am dressed like a slut and still rocking sex hair. It was a game of how far you could push him and how much abuse you could take. He couldn’t prove shit but you gave him plenty to speculate about. He even had you drug tested once. It seems so stupid that a hickey was the last straw but it had been built up so much by that point. Spotting that dumb little mark on your neck was like confirming every suspicion Bro had, true or otherwise. On some subconscious level, you probably knew you were throwing his internalized bullshit back in his face with a face that looked so much like his own. While it was likely that stung like a bitch, in retrospect there was something else there too, something that made him snap. He worded things weird. It was always about “dooming” yourself and others, about a “way things were supposed to be” that could be derailed if you weren’t careful, about your influence “corrupting Dave’s path", about you already “not being right”. However, you can’t recall him ever actually condemning your sexuality outright. Some of your life choices, yes, but not your sexuality. It was always implied, words that were danced around but never said.

But Bro was complicated. It wasn’t as simple as him hating you. He had his moments. You remember coming home one night at an obscene hour and finding him waiting for you at the kitchen table next to a bottle of jack that didn’t have much left in it. He was fucking hammered. That would flag as cause for alarm to most people but the weird thing about your bro was that he was actually nicer when he was drunk off his ass. He was...more like he used to be, or at least that’s what your memories of memories led you to believe. He got to his feet and you remember thinking he was probably blacked out if he had to take a moment to steady himself. When he walked over, he got real close and grabbed your shoulder hard like his head was spinning. Then he shoved a small square box at you and slurred “Don’t be an idiot.” before going to his room and leaving you to stand moderately stunned between the kitchen and the living room holding a pack of Durex. The next morning he didn’t remember shit and accused you of drinking his whiskey. Come to think of it--

“Fuck.” You jerk your hand back and watch your burned down cigarette fall to the alley below. What a waste. You only had maybe two drags of that. You light another and try to remember where you left off. Right, Bro and the whiskey. He accused you of drinking it and you came back with something smart about him coming full circle with his hangover. It was quick, you almost missed it, but for a split second, there was confusion on his face. It wasn’t the first time or the last time you’d seen that. It was a confliction. That day it resolved with you getting smacked upside the head, but sometimes he’d just mumble “whatever” or something like that and disappear into his room. It was something that stuck with you just like the way he acted when he was drunk. It was odd. It was also eerily similar to the look he had on his face right before he tried to kill you. 

Before you know it, the sky is dark and you’ve lost a good chunk of time thinking back on your last days in this apartment. You go back inside and skim Bro’s letter again because neither Jake nor Jane have gotten back to you yet. It’s looking like the next thing on your list is going to be those discs. You don’t remember seeing them anywhere but maybe you got distracted and missed something. 

##  ==> Be Dirk again a little later

timaeusTestified [TT] began pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG] 

TT: Unlike Jake and Jane are you able to respond to my quandaries in a timely fashion?

TG: mayhappes 

TG: wats on yoiur mind?

TT: Cool.

TT: That box of games I gave you, is there a smaller box within that box? And if so, does that box look like it contains a bunch of floppy disks?

TG: mmm lemme chek

TG: yeah is one of those big fuckers the double thing

TT: What do you mean “the double thing”?

TG: its got the two sides 

TT: Huh, I didn’t think it would be so many but then again I suppose floppies don’t hold much.

TG: nope guess again

TT: They aren’t 3.5 diskettes?

TG: nope

TG: zip disks

TG: so cool

TG: never seent hese in the wild before

TG: these were so hawt for like 5 seconds

TG: a whole 450mb dick!

TG: *dirk 

TT: Maybe that’s why Bro couldn’t get anything to read them. 

TG: ?

TG: oh hey maybe these are what my mom was looking for

TT: Don’t hand them over yet. 

TG: yeah cuz i was sooooo ready to do that

TG: y tho?

TT: I’m about to lay some weird shit on you, so get cozy and keep an open mind.

TG: sounds like you found some choice pron lol

timaeusTestified [TT] sent file weirdshit.pdf

TT: I found it in that box of mementos under a false bottom.

TG: wow

TG: wait so

TG: we arent cousins?

TT: First off, I think you need some water and a little food in your stomach if that's your initial response to this.

TT: Secondly, 

TT: The implications of this letter's claims for our origins present the possibility of us not being of this world.

TG: oh snap

TG: heres to hoping its a eqaily incompatible speceises w/ trolls cuz whats pulling out?

TG: *wonk*

TG: u looked into lik the more pluasible stuff right?

TT: Of course, but I can’t find anything solid either way I look at it. Those disks are the most damning thing we have and that’s a point in favor of what Bro says happened.

TT: Do you think you can find Bro’s records and verify that he was in the foster system? Possibly also any adoption records for me.

TG: might take a bit cuz that stuffs kinda tight but yeah 

TT: Cool.

TT: Oh shit.

TT: brbnjklfghjjjjjjjjjjjjjj;;’

TG: dirk?

TG: hello?

##  ==> Dirk: Wake up

It’s a smoother transition. You get enough warning to stagger your ass to the futon before the world around you starts to fade out. You’re in that dark space again. There are whispers this time.

“A gesture of affection is a broad and subjective classification. What would have been considered affectionate in your household that Jade may also consider so?”

You can’t quite hear it or make out who it is but there is a feeling of familiarity.

“Man, I don’t know. The Strider household wasn’t exactly known for affectionate gestures unless you count beating on each other to be a symbol of love...no homo.”

You feel yourself coming together, slowly falling into place.

“Hmm, regardless, if Jade foresaw you waking Dirk but was surprised by my awakening then I don't think I'm here when you do figure it out. I’ll make myself scarce. I would like to further investigate the planet anyway. Good luck.”

You hear your name. It rings clearer than the other words.

“Thanks.”

Is that Dave? It can’t be Dave. The whispers sigh and mumble something even more difficult to discern than the words that came before it. You can feel your fingers, the fabric beneath them, and the hard surface that you’re lying on. Stone. You think you’re lying on stone. The back of your head thuds against it. Yeah, that’s stone. You feel like you could almost open your eyes when the serenity that had until now graced you, suddenly disappears.

“Wake. Up. You. Asshole.” It feels as though someone is beating you with a decorative velvet pillow, and it sounds like that someone is Dave. “Damnit. Dirk. Wake. Up.” Your eyes pop open and you throw up your arms to block the onslaught of attacks punctuating each word said to you. 

“I’m awake, I’m awake, Cut it out. Jeezus--” You stop, half sitting up and mid-sentence at the sound of your voice. It’s your voice. It’s your actual voice almost entirely stripped of the damage done to it save for some lingering hoarse undertones. You swallow like you haven’t been able to do quite right in a long time and then breathe deep, both sides of your throat responding like they’re supposed to, fully closing and opening your airway. The left side isn't paralyzed anymore.

“Calm down, Dave.” Is that Hal? And Dave? You look up to see Hal suspended by a purple balloon just to Dave’s left a few feet away from you. Dave’s expression is slate blank and he has his sword drawn defensively in front of him. You blink away more of the fog surrounding your mind from the long-ass nap your dream-self took. “I’m very certain that is Dirk. You can put down the sword.” Dave shakes his head and adjusts his stance. You feel your neck for the scar that should be there and find the distorted skin under your fingertips despite the return of your voice, which, thankfully, you think is not quite a dead ringer for your brother even if it is very similar.

“Dave, it’s me. I don’t know why my voice is back, but look, scar’s still there.” You tilt your head up for him to see. At first, he doesn’t budge, but then cautiously he edges closer. You hold perfectly still, even when he puts his sword to your throat. You swallow hard. This is not a comfortable experience for you. 

“I strongly urge you to think carefully about what you’re doing,” Hal says from over his shoulder.

“Tell me something only Dirk would know.” His voice is hollow, anger and fear and exhaustion mixing together to cancel everything out. Alright, okay, something only you would know. So something you hid from Bro between the two of you. 

“When you were ten, you broke one of Bro’s records and I told him I did it so he’d hit me instead of you.” Dave grips his katana harder but doesn’t pull it away. You focus on breathing slow and steady, and not on the way your adam’s apple brushes against the sharp edge when you swallow.

“Bro could have figured that out. Tell me something else.” He's not sure yet. You get it. Bro killed him, you look an awful lot like Bro, and now you sound like Bro too. He’s scared. Still, this is testing your nerves and you’re struggling to find something only you would truly know or something that at least your brother wouldn’t.

“Give me a second. Hold up.” Fuck, fuck, fuck, what wouldn’t Bro know that Dave would? Or maybe..."The last thing I said to Hal. I promised I would turn him back on.”

“A promise you didn’t keep,” Hal says with contempt. Great, now you have two people judging you.

“I haven’t figured out how to fix you." That's it! That's how you can convince him. "The blueprints. They're in my tower. I can look at them and figure out why I can’t transfer Hal.” At that Dave slowly pulls the blade away from your neck. Only when it’s back in his specibus do you move, quickly lowering your head and holding your neck as you take in a deep breath. The adrenaline running through you is exhilarating. You don’t think Dave would have hurt you even if you failed his test, but for a minute there you felt more emotion than you have in days. 

“Sorry.” You can practically feel the shame pouring off of him through the way he knits his eyebrows.

“It’s cool.” You look up and hold out your hand for him to grab, catching a look of fatigue on his face as you pull each other into a lingering bro hug. Then you both drop the fucking act and just hug like normal people who thought they lost someone forever. 

“Do you remember everything? Tell me you’ve got some answers," he says in a tight voice reflective of how tight your hold of him is. You ease up a bit but by no means let go.

“It’s coming back to me. That was a long fucking nap I took. Going for the record there. Had Rip Van Winkle shaking in his boots. Plus, I’m awake right now and it’s been several years since I’ve had to split my consciousness like this.”

“You’re not in the middle of something that you should be paying more attention to like driving or anything, right?”

“Nah, sat my ass down on the couch. Although, Roxy might be slightly concerned. I could have elaborated a bit more before dropping out like that.” You pull back and hold Dave at arm's length by his shoulders. “Speaking of, man, do I have some shit to fill you in on.”

“Fascinating, but if I could have a moment of your time,” Hal pipes up as he floats more into view. Dave moves aside and hops up to sit with you on the slab. “Can you log into your computer and reattach the drives so I’m not a digital amnesiac.” You raise a curious eyebrow at him.

“You can’t remember anything?”

“Not anything from here, no.”

“Huh, weird. If I recall correctly, those drives were mostly for testing and for you to offload data to, like your extended consciousness earthside. Your memories shouldn’t be in there.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” You think for a moment, letting a hmmm rumble in your mouth while you stare at the sky. “Did you try rebooting?” you ask, your gaze returning to look at him dead-on in an admittedly taunting manner.

“Did I what?” It’s not actually a question, more an expression of outrage at the suggestion, but you’ll answer it anyway.

“Did you try turning off and on again? Maybe you just need to re-sync.” Hal hangs there staring at you in silence for a few seconds before he finally excuses himself and initiates a reboot. You chuckle but you aren't sure that he caught it. The reboot doesn’t take too long but it does get held up by multiple software updates, which is interesting, but soon enough Hal is starting up again.

“Is that the windows 98 startup sound? Is Hal running fucking windows 98?” Dave asks almost deadpan.

“Don’t tell him, it plays before he can hear it. But no, that’s not his OS.” You know he’s back online again when his eyes reappear on the shades. They needlessly blink and he floats closer to your face.

“I hate you.”

“The feeling is mutual. I also hate me. So it worked, huh?” you ask with a shit-eating grin on your face. Hal is spared the need for a response by a short aloof laugh from Dave.

“Rose is asking if you’re awake. She says some of the Dersites are getting rowdy.”

"I wouldn't doubt they had a betting pool going on me. I just made a lot of new enemies. So, how long has Rose been awake?” You wonder what kind of recall she has. She hasn’t mentioned anything to you. Then again, why would she?

“She just woke up what I’m guessing was a day or so ago? Time feels different here, like it’s out of sync or plays by different rules.”

“I’ve never noticed that but I’m not the time guy. I’m over here channeling the most useless of the planeteer rings.” You pause and look into the distance as you focus on your earthside self. You thought you felt something move.

“You good?”

“Yeah, just checking in with the other me. I must have accidentally moved both bodies. Knocked my shades off.” You stare off again to remedy that. It seems to be that you are a tad rusty at doing things in tandem. “Let’s grab Rose and head over to my tower.”

Rose opts to meet you there and you find her waiting on the window sill reading a large and heavy-looking book that disappears into her sylladex when she sees the two of you approaching. You guess Dave saved you the trouble of unsealing your tower.

“So how did Dave finally manage to awaken you?”

“He wailed on me with a decorative pillow.” She covers her mouth as she laughs and floats away from the ledge to let you through. It’s different than you recall. By that, you mean that your tower now reflects your current bedroom instead of your childhood one. Whatever controls that did a decent job of reconciling where things should go that only exist on Derse and what it couldn’t rectify, it just dumped on your dream bed. 

“I guess your tower woke up too,” Dave says as he meanders about the room. “When I was here before, it was your room from when we were kids.” You make a noise of acknowledgment but your attention is on the blueprints hanging partially over your bed opposite your desk. It’s not the most convenient place but it’ll do. The memories are all coming back to you now. All the things you did that you couldn’t quite remember with full clarity are returning to you as you look over the detailed diagrams. You’re glad that your teenage self thought to leave room for upgrades. Hal’s original hardware looks so incredibly dated now. It has you wondering something.

“Hal, run a hardware scan and tell me if you still have your original parts or if this version of you updated with your other self.” 

“I don’t need to run a scan to tell you that. This is definitely my original hardware. I’m surprised that update didn’t crash me.” 

“Interesting,” you say with a hum as you quickly thumb through some new ideas. “You know, looking at these schematics reminded me that I did actually replace your processor. I must have registered changing the entire socket as a traumatic experience and blocked it out.” It was something you did after running too low on time to waste any more trying to transfer him to a body before you were no longer welcome at the apartment. “That was a real pain in my ass. You know what that means though?”

“Hal is a ship of Theseus” Rose states in a calm matter of fact way that makes you think she may have figured this out before you.

“Of whomst?” Dave asks as he plops down into your desk chair and puts his feet up on the end of your bed. 

“I’m sure you’ve heard of it, though maybe not by name. The paradox goes that if you were to be diligent about maintaining a ship and replaced every board as it rotted, is the ship still the same ship once you’ve replaced the last original board?” Rose explains.

“Ironically, for me, the board in question is my motherboard.”

“And possibly the socket for your processor. I upgraded that on both sides.” It might not be a matter of ‘original’ so much as it is a matter of matching.

“So basically, grandfather’s ax, right?” Dave asks. “If your dad replaces the handle and then you replace the blade, is it still your grandfather’s ax?”

“Precisely.” 

You can sense Hal looking on over your shoulder as you stare at the years of work on display in front of you. The blueprints propose answers for some questions but raise a few others. 

“I think transferring Hal has never worked because I didn’t take both of him into account. Even with only his board being original, this place still sees Hal and his Derse self as the same entity. I’ve been breaking some abstract link between them whenever I’ve tried to move him. All of this assuming, of course, that I’m not and never was insane, and/or currently having a psychotic break, which wouldn’t surprise me right now.”

“This place _is_ pretty wild. I can see why you thought it was all in your head.”

“Oh, I still very much have not taken that off the table. It’s chillin right next to the butter.” At that Dave turns sharply to face you.

“Wait you’re serious? You don’t think this is real?” He’s hiding it but you can see the devastation in his suddenly tensed expression.

“It could be. It feels like it is.” You can tell that your answer doesn’t do much to settle his nerves. “If it makes you feel better, I took it seriously enough before I went to sleep to make some preparations.” You can see your words beginning to have some sway but the disappointment is still there.

“Is that how Roxy convinced you to see a psychiatrist?” Rose asks.

“Partly. She had all but done so when I saw the clouds on Prossspit.”

“You made the trek all the way out to Prossspit? That explains how Jade got a hold of your rocket board. How did you know to go there?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it a trek. I mean, sure it is annoying to venture that far down into Derse and it’s easy to get turned around but once you know where you’re going it’s pretty quick.” The look Dave is giving you suggests that he has not been traveling this way. “You didn’t use the transportalizer.”

“Nope. Been hoofing it there via rocket board.”

“I have some great news for you.”

“I did it the hard way, huh?”

“Mhm. Hal, can you generate a map for Dave? Rose too.”

“I’m already in the process of it,” Hal replies. Rose says something then but you miss it, your attention shifting again to peak at your other self. Nothing looks different but you could have sworn something moved. "Ground control to major dick, do you read?"

"What?" You ask as Derse replaces Earth in the foreground of your vision.

"You were standing there staring into the abyss," Hal states as he hovers in front of you.

"I thought I heard something. I should get back soon. Squarewave and Sawtooth can't be too far off by now, but before I peace out..." You pull out your phone and send Dave and Rose the same file you sent Roxy. "I found this while clearing out Bro's room. It was under a false bottom in a box hidden in his closet. More details on that itself forthcoming, but for now, some lite reading for y'all. It's a fucking doozy."

"It looks promising," Rose says as she floats toward the window. "I think I'll peruse it over a cup of tea. Hal, would you be so kind as to help me locate a Dark Starbucks?" Rose's eyes lock with yours before flicking to briefly look at Dave and then come back to you. A "subtle" hint that you should speak with him alone and perhaps exchange some emotionally driven words like the well-adjusted people you aren't. You watch her fly off with Hal and when you turn to look at Dave, he has his hands jammed in his pockets and he's trying not to make it obvious that he's purposely looking away.

"So, uh, you're cleaning out the apartment, huh?"

"Yeah. I haven't done your room yet, or your dorm. Your dozens of half-full lyric notebooks are safe.”

“Ha, yeah. Gotta hold onto those. They’ll be worth money someday.” He’s trying to make light but there is something on his mind. “But, uh, how are you holding up?” Ah, that.

“I’ll figure it out. I might still be a little foggy on the recall but it should start filtering through better if I can get the hang of co-existing. Plus, if I can transfer Hal then maybe I can figure out why he was never able to send himself data about Derse.”

“That’s cool and all, but it isn’t what I asked.” There is a moment of silence before you answer. Your knee jerk reaction is to tell him you’re fine but that seems in poor taste. Not to mention, it isn’t exactly true either.

“I could be better.”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have trusted him to hold back, especially considering what I was trying to stop him from doing.”

“It’s not your fault.” _It’s mine._ "I should have been there." It’s your fault he died. If you hadn’t let him go off on his own, he'd still be alive. Dave looks like he might be about to refute your claim but you get there first. “Don’t.” He concedes with a nod, understanding that this isn’t something you want to get into right now and pulls out his phone. 

“You said this letter is a doozy, huh?” He opens the file you sent him and after a brief pause he lets out a long whistle. “Sure you can’t stick around? I’m sensing a metric ass-load of questions in my near future.”

“I guess it couldn’t hurt.” You take a seat on your bed and lean against the wall. It’s a similar enough position to the other you that makes keeping tabs on what’s happening earthside a bit easier. You watch as Dave reads, uttering a “no way” here, a “holy shit” there, and even an “oh fuck you” when Bro correctly predicts him pacing the room. But the more he reads, the more twisted up his expression gets. You think he’s hit the really weird stuff when he isn't even pretending it's funny anymore and goes silent. His mouth is a thin line when he finally puts his phone away.

“He’s damn right I won’t forgive him.” With that, Dave takes off out of your tower, jumping from the window which is instinctively alarming and has you springing to your feet. Quickly you regain your bearings and follow suit. When you don’t immediately see him, you think he may have taken to the surface where it would be harder to spot him, but then you catch movement out of the corner of your eye. Of course, that’s where he’s going. 

You don’t fly to Sollux’s tower as fast as you could. You give Dave some time to cool off. When you land quietly on the ledge of his window, in the second before Dave notices, you see him sitting on the edge of the bed holding his moirail's hand. The look on his face is best described as distressed, but amidst it is something foreign to you, something vulnerable and needy and heartfelt. You're almost envious of the experience as a concept. But if Bro was going to strip the ability to connect like that from one of you, you'd rather be the one taking the hit. You can bear it. 

In an instant, his face is blank, only easing slightly when it fully registers which brother you are. That will always sting. He was so close to working through it too. No use dwelling on what could have been.

"It's just such bullshit, ya know?” He says, annoyance and frustration at the surface of his voice. “It's a cop-out wrapped up so snug in his classic brand of mindfuckery that even the most swaddled of babes is getting spoon-fed a lesson on envy. So fucking green with the stuff that the hulk is doling out alimony. He can't have it both ways. He can't-- He can't do the things he did to us and just wash it all away cause he was messed up." You're realizing now that you may have had a very cold response to this news. To you, it was like an aggravating puzzle. For Dave though, it's like a punch to the face. You hop down from the ledge when he pauses for a breath, and pull over the desk chair, spinning it around backwards to sit opposite him as he's gearing up for more. "And then he plays it up like he's some kind of goddamn martyr? 'Oh, woe is me, I have no choice but to beat my kids because the planets aligned and I saw my grand line.' If he was so sick then why didn't he get help? Why didn't he say anything?" He seems to suddenly realize how tense he is and releases the grip he has on Sollux's hand, mumbling an apology as he rubs soothing circles into it. 

"I'm not sure. If I had to guess, I would say that by the time he knew something was wrong, he was too far gone to make those types of logical decisions. From his letter, context would suggest that he was under the impression that Cal was talking to him for long enough that it only struck him as odd when it became more frequent and persistent. Something like that could have easily flown under the radar. Provided it’s true, a foster kid with a heavy attachment to a toy and an imaginary friend doesn’t exactly raise a red flag. Hell, we didn’t even think that he seriously thought Cal was talking to him. To us, it was just a game he played, a running joke. It’s possible that that splinter of his consciousness convinced him that he was still treading water when he was really drowning.” You said that too calmly. Dave looks hard at you. He’s stock-still and his jaw is clenched tight. 

"Please, tell me you aren't defending him."

"Fuck no." He visibly relaxes. "All I'm saying is that you can see how it could have happened, where the wrong turns could have hypothetically been made, moments when he might have been breaching the surface again for air, and when he slipped back under. He was still an abusive asshole who didn't even try to apologize beyond the occasional pizza night, but there's some catharsis in making sense of it."

"I guess," Dave sighs. "It just sucks ya know? Like where the fuck does he get off tryna pull that shit?" You nod, forgetting for a moment that you could have vocalized it. "And it especially sucks the largest of cocks that the bastard was right."

“I have an idea of why you might think that but tell me what you’re founding that theory on anyway.” It’s not shocking in the least bit when Dave broadly gestures to everything around you both.

“So obviously, this place itself. That goes without saying but I’m saying it anyway. There’s some other stuff too though. Like the whole meteor thing. I don’t know how much time you spent on Prossspit but there are some murals around there too. I could be wrong but one of them has what looks like earth on it and a bunch of meteors flying right at it."

"I don't remember seeing that one on Derse." You had only passed by one on your brief trips to Prossspit and it was a duplicate so you assumed they all were.

"Yeah, Prossspit has more of them. They're way more helpful too. Goes along with the general hospitable vibe. Derse is more like 'well, I guess if we have to.' and Prossspit is like 'pro tip #69: make sure a dude macks on you if your earth body dies so the sword hole doesn't kill your dream-self too.' smiley face emoji included."

"So that's why you're alive here?"

"Oh," he says, evidently surprised you didn't know this. "Yeah, if you die, your dream-self wakes up ahead of schedule. It'll start taking the damage too at some point unless someone plants one on ya."

"Any other words of wisdom from the gold planet?" Dave's face perks up at your question and quickly slips into his cool kid persona.

The guy has been busy. You’re standing in the middle of an art gallery that you don’t remember existing. Not that you scoured every inch of Derse, but you have spent a fair amount of time here so it does strike you as odd that it exists. Dave waves you over to the spiral staircase and once you’re upstairs, you’re subjected to a slideshow. Okay, maybe not subjected, but Dave does rattle on as you go through the many murals he’s photographed. You can see what he meant before. The murals from Derse are bare-bones compared to Prossspit. You make a note to spin by there next time you’re unconscious. You’ve only been there twice and both were short trips. When you finally hit the end of the reel, Dave comes out of the projection booth and takes a seat beside you. 

“Thoughts, opinions, lavish praise?” he asks as he kicks his feet up on the chair in front of him. You turn to answer but suddenly someone is shaking you awake. You open your eyes, which is a very weird feeling when your eyes are already somewhat open. The hands on your arms are cold and metallic, as is the face you’re looking up at. It’s Sawtooth. You grip his arms and hang your head, trying to hold onto the memories quickly slipping away from you, trying to burn the images into your brain before you can forget them.

“I'm good." Your voice comes out all wrong, thinner than a whisper. You get some air behind the vowels and try again. "I'm good.” It still sounds wrong. You let go of him and sink back into the futon. Sawtooth looks to his left where Squarewave is freestyling about picking up pills while he does so, like some kind of dystopian Sesame Street. “I don’t think I’m going to take those anymore." 

"Awwwww Yeeeeaaahh!" Squarewave screeches as he dumps all the pills into his mouth and spikes the bottle. Sawtooth looks back to you and from the edge of your vision, you see him pick something up. It’s your phone. He has Roxy’s contact open and his finger hovering questioningly over the dial button. Dave’s the reason he can use touch screens. You were so caught up on the programming end of it that you almost gave him classic sci-fi robot hands like Squarewave instead of what Dave called “stylus fingers”. 

“No, I’m fine. I think I'll shower for a while. I have a lot of thinking to do.” Sawtooth nods sharply and closes the app then sets your phone on the coffee table. 

You do some of your best thinking in the shower. It’s easier to line up your thoughts when you’re surrounded by white noise and the way the bathroom light contrasts with the dimmer light inside the shower gives it a secluded feeling. You let the water warm your back while you try to recall the fragmented and blurred events that just happened. As vague as they may be, you remember the three most key details: Hal might not be done for, Derse might be real, and your little brother might be alive there. In fact, it feels like more than "might be". You're nearly certain it is. If something as wild as that is true, then the stuff in Bro’s letter could be too. 

timaeusTestified [TT] opened memo Theories and Speculation

timaeusTestified [TT] added group [strilondeCollective] to memo Theories and Speculation

turntechGodhead [TG] is offline and unable to receive messages

timaeusTestified [TT] added group [surnameVarietypack] to memo Theories and Speculation

timaeusTestified [TT] set status lilSebastian [LS] to alert 

TT: Listen up, chucklefucks.

GG: Gee whiz, Dirk! What’s so important that you had to set off Little Sebastian’s alert mode?

TT: I was getting to that.

GT: Is this more of that stuff about bro?

TT: Yes, it's more of that stuff neither of you answered me about. Now if you’d give me a moment to type I could tell you all about it.

GT: Theres *more*?

TT: Alright, first matter of business, getting everyone up to speed. 

timaeusTestified [TT] sent file conspiracyboards.jpeg

TT: I found this in his room on the wall.

timaeusTestified [TT] sent file bros_letter.pdf

TT: And I found this hidden among Bro’s possessions in a box full of mementos from when Dave and I were little, which was also hidden and wrapped in a fuckton of tape as if to intentionally make it brutal levels of annoying to open.

TT: I’ve been knuckle deep in research to determine the extent of truth to this letter and what exactly Bro was on about with the link analysis board.

TT: So far I’ve been able to fully verify that:

> )Bro had some fixation with the court case Sollux was involved in and had noted several troll signs surrounding it. Which may or may not be related to Sollux building Bro’s data scrapers.
> 
> )Bro had intended to send Dave to the same college as John. I found an acceptance letter mixed in with brochures for universities in the surrounding area with many of the same signs as the court case written on them.
> 
> )Bro was on an intricate craigslist adventure when he kidnapped Sollux. The bees pieced together browsing and network data along with some recovered files and were able to get a more detailed view of his route. He had a solid chain of exchanges to obtain a second psionic dampener and a myriad of other meetups for vintage and reproduction diskette readers. Additionally, they recovered info that Bro had already obtained the first psionic dampener prior to Dave leaving.
> 
> )Bro was in possession of zip disks that are property of Skaianet Systems and those disks were given to him by my aunt, potentially for safekeeping. He couldn’t ever locate the correct drive to read them, hence, searching for disk readers
> 
> )Skaianet Systems was owned and founded by Jake Harley and currently owned by Jude Harley, who is well respected publicly but regarded as a crackpot by many in his field.
> 
> )Jake Harley and Jane Crocker sr. were both adopted by Betty Crocker and Colonel Sassacre. More info on this and the above from either of you would be appreciated.
> 
> )David and Elizabeth Strider did exist, did own a diner, died as a result of a meteor impact, and did know me. There was a photo of them with me as an infant in the box with the letter.

GT: Golly thats a lot of text.

TT: Roxy, did you find those records?

TG: i found yur birth certificates bujt they just say elizabth an david r ur partents 

TG: *parents

TG: i;; keep lookin tho

TG: *i’ll

TT: Alright, yeah, if your mom had them erased it could be hard to find. 

TT: This is certainly an interesting read. 

TG: oh btw my mom said he got like hella paranoid an was askin g her all these questions about somethin she didnt elaborate on 

TG: she said bro was the one who stopped talking to her but idk how reliable a source shes is

TT: Perhaps it was about your mom's work. There was a whole mess of stuff about meteors on his computer that correlated to the string map with all the pins in it, which, for everyone that isn't Roxy and thus was not present for this revelation, look to be color-coded by troll blood and human eye color. That’s still under speculation. We’ll get to that list momentarily.

GG: Are you really entertaining the thought that this is true? It sounds to me like your brother was schizophrenic. 

GT: Ill admit it is a tad strange that ms. lalonde works for the company my grandpa used to own but...

TT: Wait, Jake, you knew that your grandfather owned Skaianet Systems?

GT: Of course. He bequeathed shares of it to me and jade to ensure our financial standings. Needlessly so in my opinion what with the trust fund stipend whosit-whatsits being plenty ample. Beats my biscuit who this Jude guy is running the show now but ive heard that gramps was a popular gent so im not surprised to see its still in the family. 

GG: gross

TT: Jade, did you know my aunt worked for Skaianet?

GG: i think so, but i guess i never really thought too much about it

GT: My thoughts exactly. Its odd for sure but i dont think its strange enough to validate this cockamamy conspiracy theory. I mean you have to admit that it is rather far fetched to think we all tumbled out of the sky as tots.

GG: It’s a skosh more than far fetched. :/

GG: And don’t you go thinking I didn’t catch notice of the part about my company. I’ll have you know there’s nothing “nefarious” about it. 

TT: It’s a baking company that also dabbles in consumer electronics. You don’t find that peculiar in any regard?

GG: No siree. It’s perfectly normal for a company to branch out and tap other markets. I mean look at the success of the Tiara Top©. The Tiara Top 2.0© is already selling out like our hotcakes. 

TT: Fine, but what about the disks? Those turned out to be real. Roxy found them in the box of retro games I gave her.

GG: What about them colors you suspicious?

TT: Bro could never find anything that would read them and my aunt wants them back after all this time. For that matter, why was she trying to hide them in the first place? 

TT: There are some dubious dealings going on here, potentially even activities of an ignominious intent, and I bet it has something to do with why Bro was the way he was and why he killed Dave.

GG: So, that’s what this is really all about.

TT: And what in the ever-lovin pray tell is that supposed to mean?

GG: Have you given any thought to maybe seeing a therapist about this? 

TT: I’m not crazy. 

GT: Nobody is saying youre looney but perhaps getting your head shrunk might do you a spot of good. You *were* getting those fits again. Maybe your medication needs adjusting.

TT: I stopped taking those. They weren’t doing me any good. In fact, I have some theories on those blackouts but they aren’t fleshed out enough yet to be presented to y’all especially if everyone here has got it in their mind that I’ve lost it.

GG: Dirk, I know Dave’s death is hitting you hard and you want to believe there was a reason Bro did all this, but I simply don’t think there is anything beyond him being short a few marbles. 

TT: But what if he wasn’t or what if it wasn’t just that he had a screw loose. They aren’t mutually exclusive possibilities that can’t exist concurrently. There could be more to this. Why would he lie about our parents? We aren't even the same ethnicity.

TG: so ur leanin more on the side this letter being legt now?

GG: couldnt they have just adopted you?

TT: No, they died the day Dave was born. I verified that.

GT: Youre winding yourself up tighter than a top chasing this rabbit, chum. Werent you supposed to be clearing your head?

TT: The only other plausibility is that Bro was actually my father, but that puts our birth certificates right back into question.

GT: This is just like the last time you got all topsy turvy.

TT: Pardon my fuck?

TT: If I recall correctly, that was a two-way street. 

GG: I'm sorry, Dirk, it's plum awful what happened but obsessing like this won’t do you any good. It won’t bring Dave back either. 

TT: So you think. 

TT: I know what I know and if you don’t want to help me then fine, don’t.

TG: dirk wait

TG: we wanna help but like okay this letter is kind of out there and some stuff seems super likely cuz bro is totes old enough to be yur dad and theres no fcking way you never thought that maybe was the case

TG: and maybe my moms company is doing somethin sdhady but this is statstically way the fuck off the charts and yur getting all hells of intense w/ it

TT: It isn’t the weirdest shit that's happening. 

TT: Jade, you’ve been dreaming of Dave every time you sleep right? 

GG: yeah :(

GT: Jade has enough bouncing around her noggin right now Dirk. If youre about making it worse... 

TT: You really don’t believe me at all do you?

TT: You know what, you’re right, Jake, this is just like last time.

TT: Allow me to refresh your memory on how that ended. I was right.

TG: thas not entirely rtue an you know it

TG: u were right bout some shit but not everyhtign

TG: like how remember how with jake and you breaking up cuz of all that business but you changed your mind on that.

TT: Maybe I shouldn’t have. 

GT: You can’t be serious. 

TT: Come off it, English. Every time I don’t live up to your picturesque expectations you get all dodgy on me. You stuck around because it was easier. 

TG: dirk you need to calm the fuck down

TG: whens that last time u slept?

TT: Et tu, Brute? 

TG: thats not fair come on

EB: hi guys, sorry i didn't see the invite. what'd i miss?

TT: Fuck all of you. I’ll figure this out myself.

timaeusTestified [TT] closed memo Theories and Speculation

#  ==> Be Sollux 

Therapy always leaves you exhausted. Your special kind of therapy also leaves you exhausted but it also makes you feel a little lighter. It's a different lime blood now. You weren't thrilled about that. You still aren't. They reassured you that it's fine, this therapist is highly recommended, but you don't trust them. You barely trusted the other one. Still, whatever it is they do to momentarily shoulder the burden is letting you up for some much-needed air. It doesn't last long. Then again. you'd be extremely wary if it did.

They always let you nap afterward even if it's the middle of the day. When you're brought back to your room someone is just exiting it. They smile at you and say that you received some more cards. There are already quite a few on the small dresser beside the slab-like hospital recuperacoon that you were recently cleared to sleep in. You have yet to read any of them because you don't really give a fuck. The nurse is talking about them anyway. She asks you something but you only catch the words "online friends". She calls your name but her voice is far away. You're tired. You want to sleep. You want to dream about Dave and pretend this isn't your life for a while. She calls your name again then puts something in your hands. It's a plush cube of some kind. You look down at it. It's a toy Minecraft bee.

And suddenly you're curled up in a ball. Dave's tied to so much. Everything reminds you of him. Even this silly little toy that you're now hugging to your chest. You got him into Minecraft and he really liked it and now he's gone and you don't think you'll ever be able to pick up the game again without thinking of that. So many things, games, movies, places, phrases, all tied to Dave. All ruined. Forever.

You lose track of time. It's later. It could only be hours but it also might not even be the same day. What do you really care anyway? You're in the visiting room. Gamzee is here with Mituna, and you're curled up like a wiggler next to your littermate. You don't think Gamzee likes hospitals. There's probably an overwhelming amount of fear here that he can feel on the fringes of his mind like easily pulled loose threads. He's never said it explicitly, but he's alluded to not having the best control of his chucklevoodoos. Kurloz has a lot of control over his, so it could just be that Gamzee thinks he sucks by comparison. Regardless of factuality, he probably feels like he has to be on his guard here. Your perception shifts to something painfully present tense when he says something to Mituna about heading out. No, wait, he's talking to you. He kneels to be in your line of sight and puts a hand on your upper arm.

"You looking like you good on being there all snug with Tunabro. Imma peace out so's I ain't late on getting done what pays the rent." He's talking to you and you're hearing him, but he must have missed a spot sealing his makeup because there's a big smear by his mouth. It's distracting. "Karkat gonna be on up later so--" You reach out with an unsteady hand that's mostly being moved by your psionics. He stops talking. Surprise holds him still as you try to coordinate your fingers. They lightly graze his barely parted lips before meeting their mark as you try to smudge the white paint back into place. Your hand just sort of stops after a bit, fingertips resting just past the corner of his mouth having given up on the task. You didn't do a great job of fixing it but no one would ever guess that given the response. "Was my paint all motherfuckin sloppy?" he asks with a smile as he helps you bring your own damn hand back to where it was before, tucked close to your chest. You wonder if that was a fluke or not. You haven't tried to use your psionics and you aren't sure why you did just now. They probably needed the rest anyhow with all the strain you've been through. You tell yourself that so you don't feel as dumb about it but you still feel pretty dumb about it. Gamzee's voice pulls you back out from your thoughts before you can berate yourself any further. "You got my thankfuls, Starshine. I'll be seeing ya 'round." He squeezes your arm and then gets to his feet. This time when he talks, it is to Mituna. Karkat is going to be by later so Mituna can stay. He seems happy about it.

You zone out and when your attention comes back, Mituna is moving to kneel in front of you. He takes your hands and starts posing them in an attempt to get you to sign stuff at him on your own. He begins with the wiggler rhymes he learned in speech therapy, the ones he taught you to sign last time this happened, but then decides that's boring and launches into some rude slam poetry. He's just finished showing you how to sign some unflattering things regarding the mother grub when a nurse walks in. It's time for group therapy. It is your least favorite kind of therapy. The nurse starts walking over to help get you into the four-wheeled device they insist on carting you around in instead of letting you rot in recuperacoon like you want to, but Mituna beats her to it. He pushes on your palms with his fingers, starting the motion for you and letting you close your hands around his. You can feel him leeching your psionics as he pulls you up and places your arms over his shoulders so he can hold you steady just under your ribs. Mituna lacks the precision to move your legs for you, so instead, he sets you down on top of his feet, loudly declaring that it's time to mambo as he walks back a few paces and spins around. He makes you do a completely unnecessary cha-cha before he eases you into the wheelchair much the same way he made you stand up before.

Your focus skips like a scratched disc. Mituna is frowning. They're chiding him about using your psionics again. Most of the nurses aren't fond of him doing that. You would think they'd have gotten the memo by now that you don't care both in general and about this specifically. He's getting frustrated and yells at her, repeatedly insisting that he's helping, that your psionics are feeling better, but he's having trouble elaborating on it. You tilt your head up to get a better look and see an orderly coming through the set of double doors, no doubt to see what all the fuss is, which isn't going to calm Mituna down any. This is going to take so much effort but for Tuna, you suppose you can at least try to do it. Plus, it'll make everyone shut the fuck up and maybe even leave you alone. For the first time in a while, your dulled listless eyes glow brighter. You pick yourself up but otherwise hang rather listlessly in the air like a ghost, then throw open the doors, shove aside the orderly, and make your way down the hall. You pause and hang ominously outside of the therapy room listening to the rushed footsteps coming after you. How about that, your psionics do work and you appear to have a moderate amount of control over them. You wonder how long that's been a thing.

Your days and nights are a blurry routine of painful existence, having food forced on you, stewing in your thoughts, invasive therapy, visitors, group therapy, more painful existence, and sleep that is as much an escape as it is your personal hell. It's all too familiar.

They keep saying how much you're improving but you aren't. The chemicals are returning some autonomy to you, which isn't awful, but you don't really care too deeply either. If it weren't for that lime blood doctor jumping into your head and jumpstarting your "recovery" you'd be just as bad off as last time, you're sure of it. You hate this so much. You hate them being in your head. You hate not knowing what they're doing in your head. You hate them forcing this recovery speed run on you. It's some kind of mind control, you just know it. It has to be. They're trying to make you forget Dave. They're trying to erase him so you'll be a functional member of society, a success story they can check off their list. It must be what they're doing. You can't let them do that. They can't take Dave from you. You won't let them. You won't let anyone ever take him from you again. The thought pierces you. You let him die. It was your fault. If you had told him, he could have been more careful or you could have ran or-- or-- or anything, something. No, it goes further than that. You had Bro at your mercy, you had him and you let him go, and then he killed Dave. If you had just dropped him when you had the chance... Dave would have never forgiven you and they would have locked you up, but at least he would still be alive. You killed him. You killed your moirail just like you killed your matesprit. It's all your fault.

It's all your fault. **It's all your fault.** Your fault. Your diamond is dead. _Your moirail is dead._

Your fault. Your fault All your fault.

It's all your fault. 

You're curled up, legs drawn to your chest, arms wrapped around them, face buried in your knees as you sob. You don't know when you changed position or started crying. Someone touches your shoulder and you psionically shove them away. You wish everyone would leave you alone and stop fucking touching you! You let your psionics roll in waves over your skin. It's just a light show but it keeps them away. Most of them anyway. You assume it's one of the higher blood orderlies (who thinks they could handle the shock if they needed to) that takes the chance to wheel you away to the quiet room. They stay there just outside the open doorway, sitting in a metal folding chair as they flip through a magazine. Eventually, you wear yourself out. They knew you would.

You wake up in your assigned recuperacoon. The grogginess of sleep still has you and with it, you can still feel Dave's presence beside you, his head resting against your chest and his arm slung over your middle. You desperately try to cling to it. _Just a few more minutes._ You beg your consciousness. _Please, just a few more, just one more, let me pretend for just one more minute._ It's no use. Someone is waking you up. The sensation carries over despite you being conscious but starts slipping away as you're manipulated into the four-wheeled device and told that it's time for therapy. They start wheeling you down the hall and you start bracing yourself for the most disjointed hour and a half of having to listen to everyone's problems. The door comes up on your left but she doesn't stop. The nurse isn't taking you to group therapy. You pass through a set of double doors that goes to another hallway. She's taking you to individual therapy. She's taking you to your special therapy. No. You don't want that. It's a trick. They want you to let your guard down so that they can make you forget. They can't make you do it. You won't let them make you forget Dave.

You shut your doctor out, bar them from your mind, and seal yourself away. You come back around to your psychiatrist saying your name. You're jammed in the far corner of the room with your hands in your hair. Someone's quietly saying "No." over and over again. It's you. The shock of it has you going silent again. You still don't trust doctors but your psychiatrist is a very patient man and you have to give him credit for sitting there with you for what you're willing to bet was quite a while. He tells you that you've made a lot of progress in a short amount of time and he thinks this has been very beneficial, but if you don't want to see the other doctor anymore, you don't have to. He asks if you understood him. You nod your head. How he knew you were anything even resembling coherent or that you would respond is beyond you.

It's late in the day when Karkat visits. You're pretty sure it's the same day but you could be wrong. The fact that he says something about you having a rough time leads you to believe it might be the same one. You stare at the floor while he tries to offer you reassurances. It's hard to focus. You space out for a minute and when you're yanked back into the present Roxy is here. She brushes off whatever concern Karkat has and steps past him to grab the handles on the back of the wheelchair and steer you to sit at the lone card table in the room.

"I've been up for two days," she looks it. "What is Armageddon 2?" she asks, leaning forward with her palms pressed to the table. You stare blankly at her.

"I told you, he's not going to answer. He's barely responsive and he's only said one word since he's been here." Karkat huffs as he crosses his arms. Roxy rolls her eyes at him and then returns her gaze to you.

"Look, Dirk's off his shit and I've been up for two days trying to make peace between everyone. This thing is all I've got so far. Spill it, bee boy." She drops a board out of her sylladex and with a heavy hand she slams a white droplet-shaped piece of plastic in front of you. "What's Armageddon 2? It's a game, right? One that was never released or maybe only a beta?" She's trying to sound tough but her frustrated exhaustion seeps right through and permeates her voice. You look up at her and then back down at the ouija board. "I know you're in there and Karkat told me about your psionics working. Move the damn pointer." How fucking dare she. Not even a hello, no 'how are you?', just walks in demanding shit of you like you're not in the darkest depression of your life. She wants you to move the fucking pointer? Fine. You nudge the plastic coaster to two letters. "F...U-- Oh ya know what? Screw you!" She slaps away the offending plastic and it goes clattering to the floor.

"Roxy, wait," Karkat says in a softer than usual tone as he intercepts her from storming out the way she came. You turn your head to get a better look at them. She's tired and upset. Karkat is tired too but he's doing his best to calm her down. She says she's worried about Dirk. He's on some kind of obsessive search for resolution, stopped taking his medication, and then flipped out in a memo. You can relate. Not at present but the concept is familiar. You miss part of the conversation just then and pick up where she's making her way to leave again. With a sigh, you stop her by yanking on her scarf. It has her making a startled "hyurk" sound as you choke her just a bit. Her expression flips back to annoyance when she turns around to find her scarf floating. You give it another tug, this one much lighter, and keep at it until she wanders back over. She gets almost back to the table when she thinks to stop and look for the pointer. This time she places it more gently on the table. "So, do you know?"

[i-i-d-k] you spell out. She sighs and pulls out one of the chairs to slump heavily into.

"Shit," She says almost hushed as she stares at the ceiling and runs a hand through her hair. "Well, if you think of anything..." She sits back up and takes a box out of her sylladex. It's one of those old plastic diskette file boxes, the big ones that hold 25 to a side and have a groove down the center of the lid just in case you didn't realize it had two sides. She pops it open and you can see the end half of where someone has written Armageddon on the one side (you assume the 2 is below it) and 4/13 fixes discs on the other. Alright, maybe the divot in the plastic does have a use and isn't just lazy design. Time does that weird stuttering thing it keeps doing where things seem to lurch forward and suddenly Roxy is trying to call your attention to one of the discs in question. "This is the only one with writing on it." It's a beige zip disk with a faded Skaianet Systems label that was at least two fonts ago. 'Co-Op 1 of 2' is written across it with no regard for the lines provided to do so. 

Your heart sinks. Roxy says to let her know if you think of anything and leans down to kiss the top of your head but you're quickly slipping away. You were already exhausted. This is too much. Yet, you can't help but dust off the memory.

It was your wriggling day. Aradia had just given you your "gift" and the two of you were lazing around, tangled in the sheets of her concupiscent platform. It was bliss even long after the haze of afterglow had cleared. You remember everything about that moment, the feeling of her skin pressed against yours, the soft way she looked at you, the sound of her voice, the scent of her shampoo that still lingered in her hair from the night before. You remember thinking the world would have to end before anything could get you to move from that spot. Or breakfast.

Once the two of you finally did make it out of her room, she made you french toast sticks. You damn near choked on one when she deadpan asked you if you would still love her if she had a human mustache 'like this', and looked up to see her floating two curled pieces in front of her face. The only way you could've possibly responded was with a matching set of toast eyebrows.

You had just finished cleaning up when she came into the kitchen with a gift box and a quip about you honestly thinking that her bulge was the only thing she was going to give you for your wriggling day. When you opened it her expression faltered in the barely noticeable way it did when she was lying by omission, something you had come to accept from her. She had her reasons. You could understand it. Despite whatever Aradia was hiding, excitement lit up her eyes. She said the gift was really neat and it had reminded her of you, but also that it was important. She wasn't sure why or when it would be important, but she knew you were supposed to have it and would eventually know what to do with the strange proprietary looking disk drive. Every so often you'd look at the piece of vintage tech that lived with other odds and ends by your desk. It was a solid year before you accidentally hit the eject button and realized there was a diskette inside.

If Roxy is trying to figure out what these are because Dirk is going shit hive maggots over them, then they have to be linked to Dave. The discs somehow have something to do with Dave. Is that what Aradia knew and didn't tell you? Did she know what Dave would mean to you? For the first time in what feels like an eternity, you have the smallest most microscopic glimmer of motivation. No one in their right mind would classify it as a healthy motivation but the shred of curiosity is something.

The world comes back into focus when Karkat says your name. He's all teary-eyed as he hugs you and thanks you for trying even if your first act of direct communication was to tell your kismesis to fuck off. Is it the first time you've done that? No, it isn't, not really unless you're counting by it being more than a boolean response. The whole thing has left you drained but you don't want KK thinking you're slighting him so you make a tired sound. He pulls away and wipes stray tears on his sleeve.

"Do you want me to tell them about the ouija board?" You glance sideways. Roxy didn't leave it here so Karkat must mean just to let the staff know that you made an attempt. You can see that going poorly for future you, so you shake your head. If he bothered asking, you suppose he understands that. "You did really well today though, so I'll just let them know you did some more yes/no stuff. Maybe they'll let you sleep extra or something tomorrow." You don't deserve all he does for you. You know it's him handling all the paperwork and keeping an eye on how they're treating you and making the judgment calls when they present treatment options. You overheard two nurses talking about how he wouldn't let them do anything to dampen your psionics for any reason. Why they would, you don't know, but you're glad they didn't.

He's right about them giving you some slack for your "effort". They let you sleep in the next day. Not the most orthodox reward but it's the only thing you even remotely care about. It's extra time with your subconscious, extra time with that figment of your dead moirail sitting beside you rambling and occasionally running his fingers through your hair. You can almost hear the words this time or maybe it's one of those things your brain just tells you to fill in the gaps. Either way, you get to pretend for a while that Dave is still alive and still working on his photography. And even if it is just a dream, even if it isn't real, you swear his touch is affecting you as if it were. When his fingertips brush over your cheek you swear it feels like he's really there papping your face and you're so desperate for it that even the slightest touch soothes you and leaves you feeling hazy.


	16. Chapter 34: Tactical Sluttery and Daddy Issues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, trigger warning in this chapter for suicide related things.
> 
> SecondIy, I made some formatting changes. 
> 
> There are now header tags to make skipping through the chapter easier, and all the bolds and italics have been replaced with "strong" and "emphasis" tags both in this chapter and retroactively. 
> 
> If anyone is replacing the chum handle or troll tag abbreviations to say the actual names, the way i have it written is with a space between the letters so the text-to-speech reads them individually.

# ==> Dirk: Descend

It's fascinating how easy it is to get a person's login credentials. Some might use words such as "low-class" and "amoral" to describe your methods, but their effectiveness is undeniable. Besides, what's a "Yes daddy please" or two for the greater good? It's not like it means anything to you. It's clinical. All it takes is a few seconds and you know exactly who you need to be. They take you home, get their kicks, let their guard down, and then you gank their shit. Well, that's what you used to do when you were hard up for funds anyway. Seduce some chump, let Hal work his magic while you played distraction, then swipe a few things on your way out in the early AM for good measure while they slept it off. 

It's a bit more targeted this time around. There's no shortage of exceptionally perverted and corrupted men in the government and civil services to exploit. It was not difficult to figure out who they were and where they'd be lurking. Hell, with the apps they have these days, all you had to do was be in the right place and open one up like it was fucking pokemon go. 

A familiar thrill runs through you when the sack of shit lying next to you finally seems to be out cold. He's a paper pusher for the brood caverns and while you don't know much about that, you have a hunch that several trolls you know might have odd birth records. You recall Porrim going on about an incident where several egg clusters were mixed up and how it generated a lot of extra filing. If your human friends skipped the fetal stage, your troll friends likely skipped the egg stage, and if that's something they keep track of, it could be just as valuable as your own records in proving your cause.

You climb out of bed and dress without so much as a sound, then quietly fish the guy's wallet out of the pants discarded in a crumpled heap on the floor. Bro would be rolling over in his grave (if he had one) knowing what you were using all your stealthy bullshit ninja skills to do. You take the cash because you might as well; the guy will just think he spent it as long as you leave a few bills in there. Although, it isn't what you are primarily after as far as his wallet is concerned. That would be his id badge. It's exactly where you expect it to be; jammed to one side of the billfold so there is as little material as possible blocking the NFC chip. A quick scan with your phone and now you can duplicate it. You put his wallet back where you found it and make your way into the kitchen. You saw his laptop on the table when you pretended to stagger your way in earlier. When you flip the lid open, you aren't surprised to see a sticky note taped to the palm rest. His password looks like some default suggestion meant to prevent dictionary attacks. Doesn't do much in the way of security for anything else when you tape it right to the machine. A few minutes later and you have a plaintext list of all his saved passwords and everything you need to discreetly dig around later at a distance. It's amazingly easy. About as easy as he thought _you_ were.

You won't rummage through that guy's shit just yet. You need to let things cool first. In the meantime, you'll continue searching for a guy who has the kind of physical access you need for your other lead. Roxanne might have had your records deleted digitally, but Bro was born in 1972; his stuff is doubtlessly hard copy. You're no spring cock of the digital age either. '92 is still early enough for you to say with certainty that there is a paper with your name on it in a filing cabinet somewhere. You just need to figure out the where part. Assuming Bro was born in Houston, both your original paper birth certificates should be at the local registrar for Harris county. Failing that, copies of your originals, regardless of county, would both be at the Office of Vital Records in Austin. They would have been sent over shortly after the originals were made. Once you have the right access, you just need to strut in like you own the place and nobody will be the wiser. Should that fall through too, you’ll have to find a way into social services and procure a document that puts Bro anywhere in the foster system. It isn’t ideal, your most damning evidence is either of your paternity, but it will give you some sway at least. No one is going to believe you otherwise. You wash your mind of the thought.

##  ==> Dirk: slink out the door

There is something peaceful about walking the streets in the wee hours, specifically 3am. It's after all the drunks have tumbled into 24-hour diners or staggered home, but before the office types have started stirring. You make your way toward the distinct otherworldly glow of said eating establishment. The smell of coffee hits you as you walk in. It is both enticing and stomach-turning simultaneously. The wahfting scent of breakfast does nothing to help the sour feeling churning in your gut, but you know a plate of protein and carbs will ease it despite what your nose has to say about the situation.

You read through your messages while you wait for your food. Roxy is trying to check in with you. It’s been a while since she has sent you the bare minimum "you still kickin" message. John sent you a message too, albeit several hours ago. He isn’t sure what’s going on but he said he’ll ask his dad about his nana. Then a few minutes later he asks if it would be okay if he could have some of Dave’s photos. You forgot how much this must suck for him. You send him a quick reply saying that you haven’t gotten to Dave’s room yet, but you’ll set aside some photos for him when you do. Jake is still silent so you guess you were right even if it was something you said in a rather heated moment. You’re sure he cares about you on some level but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t believe what you accused him of at least a little.

After you wander back to the apartment, you try to sleep but it doesn’t come to you. Every time you think you might nod off, a weird feeling claws up the back of your neck and jars you awake. It reminds you that you still aren’t sure what happened to Cal. You haven’t seen him around but you could swear you sense a presence every now and then that isn’t Squarewave or Sawtooth. Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation but you decide, fuck it, let's take a gander at what your promiscuous intel procurement has yielded. You pick through the data you collected off his id badge first. 

It looks like he only has building clearances in Texas, but his digital clearance is national just as you thought. It’s validating to see you aren’t wasting your time here. The internet isn’t shy about advertising who works where and the higher positions play fast and loose with titles. However, for physical access, you need to aim lower. It's going to be much more difficult to find the right kind of person at the bottom of the chain.

For a while you do some more cyber snooping and cross-referencing before calling it quits and trying to sleep again. It isn’t coming easily. Dave is probably starting to wonder where you are. You’ve never blatantly jammed about it but you’d bet good money he has some hang-ups regarding being isolated. Hopefully Rose has been getting better sleep than you or Jade. Sure, Hal is there too but with all his newfound freedom you doubt he is sticking to Dave’s side as much as would be most beneficial. 

##  ==> Dirk: Try to remember how you used to split your consciousness. 

You give it some focus. It takes some time and the connection is a little shoddy, but eventually, Derse starts to overlay your vision. If this is all in your head, it sure is fucking seamless. You find Dave in Sollux’s tower having a rather private moment soothing his moirail as he rambles on about his photography. You don’t let him carry on for longer than it takes to make the observation because you are culturally adept enough to realize that you might as well have walked in on them making out or something close to it. He quickly pulls away and nervously mumbles something about helping Sollux sleep better. You head out to the Dark Starbucks that has become a staple gathering location and get in some good brainstorming about Hal. Dave brings up Jade’s dream bot, which is a very fair point to make, but unfortunately, you have to remind him that it stopped working several years ago. A large portion of the inner components were just gone and nobody could figure out how or where they went. Jade’s dream bot does bring a new question to the table, however; how come it can send and receive but Hal can’t? Could that be part of the issue with transferring him? Perhaps it isn’t the transfer itself corrupting him but the reestablishing of the link between his two selves that is causing the problem. It’s food for thought. You’ll have to seek out his input later though. He’s on another adventure around Derse. Dave says he’s been going off on his own exploring and trolling a lot of message boards under fabricated accounts, wreaking general havoc like a teenager that just figured out how to get around the parental blocker.

A strange feeling takes you then. Where your vision is usually overlayed to a varying degree of opacity, suddenly Derse is at full saturation. Your earth body must have finally passed out. Rose shows up not long after so you suppose it may be some point in the evening. It is somewhat curious. You didn’t think that much time had passed. Dave did say time didn’t operate the same here. You wonder if it has a consistent correction factor or if it waxes and wanes. Odd that you’ve never noticed it before. Maybe it has to do with Dave being awake or in proximity, or possibly even a phenomenon that doesn’t take effect until it’s pointed out. Then again, you didn't have much frame of reference to judge the flow of time when it was just you awake.

You go to grab some more coffee and when you return, Rose has begun catching Dave up on what’s happening earthside to the best of her ability. Come to think of it, she really is his best connection, isn’t she? Jade is on the island and you’re doing your thing in Texas still. Rose is at least in the right state even if she isn’t in the immediate vicinity. She’s trying to be delicate about Sollux’s condition. It’s a strange balance of insisting he’s improving to soothe Dave's concerns, but not so much as to downplay the fact that Sollux is still absolutely devastated. The subject shifts to Karkat and proves to be almost as depressing a topic. 

The conversation eventually stalls out and silence grips the table for a long moment before Rose clears her throat and gives you some interesting news unrelated to the wellbeing of your friends. At some point, somehow, the beta reader app updated. Dave sheepishly admits to closing all his apps for once, and then gives you a judgy look while commenting that he didn’t think you could do that on iphone. Rose goes on to elaborate that she hasn’t finished reading through Dave’s comments and hasn’t yet reached a point beyond his death. All eyes turn to Dave when she asks if he made any additional notes while here and if they mention anything about Derse. His face flushes red and he scratches the back of his head. Dave has made **A LOT** of comments, some of which do mention him being here. It’s very promising. You have him open up the app and put in a comment closer to where Rose left off. There’s a lot of debate between you all about the content of said comment. You eventually agree on this explanation because Dave insists that it needs to sound like him and neither you nor Rose have enough “chaotic dumbass energy”.

“okay, this is going to sound batshit levels of crazy, i’m prefixing that right out the gate. so yeah, i’m making this comment from beyond the grave. there are some high key shenanigans happening. the long and short is that dirk is on the right track. you, jade, and him are all awake in this other place when you’re asleep. that’s where i’m stuck at. right now dirk has the best recall of it because he can zone the fuck out and come here when he’s awake since he stopped taking his meds. remember how you were bombarded with a seriously delirious case of deja vu when you were reading that letter? that’s because you red it before when you were awake on derse but asleep on earth. now i know what you’re thinking because you told me so a hot second ago. you’re thinking that this is either a wild hallucination or that you slipped into some kind of fugue state to write this yourself, but i have proof. ask karkat to look under my bed. there is a red box under there that says “to sollux”. aradia’s sister gave it to me when i ran off like a punk ass bitch and found out my safe space is apparently 7 Eleven. i don’t know what’s in there. aradia’s sister told me it was something that aradia tried to mail to sollux before she died but it got bounced around the postal system like a two-dollar whore in a crack house and eventually returned to sender. doesn’t matter. the point is that you don’t know it’s there. nobody does because, imma be real with you chief, i forgot all about it. hit dirk up when you get this. oh and p s don’t give that box to sollux. aradia’s sister said it would make him sad and he sure as shit doesn’t need that right now.” Dave had typed a little more than that but furiously backspaced it before showing Rose and you.

He hits the submit button and promptly jams his phone in his pocket. You and Rose stare at him until he realizes he left the app open again. However, when he fishes his phone back out and goes to close it, the app warns that it isn't done uploading. The loading icon, a kaleidoscopic circular fractal, does it's animation for a few more frames before it presents a failure message that suggests trying again later and offers to save as draft. You guess you'll just have to wait.

##  ==>Dirk: wake up in a slightly different place than where you went to sleep.

You wake up sitting at the kitchen table. A little weird but definitely not the worst place you've ever regained consciousness. The memories from after you passed out are foggy and fragmented, but the ones before that ring a little clearer than they did last time. You were there on Derse again with Dave. Last time you weren’t certain who else it was there but this time you’re pretty sure it was Rose. Just like in regular dreams (not that you’ve had any of those since you were a teenager) it’s hard to remember the faces. You would liken the experience to looking at someone while facing the sun, a bright glare obscuring their features. Something about her, beyond her being awake in the first place, was important but you’re struggling to recall it. At least you were able to hold onto most of your conversation with Dave. The dream bot and it’s send/receive abilities are definitely something to ponder about. You pick your head up and look at the spot where the wall clock used to be. Right, you threw that out. With a sigh, you pull out your phone to check the time instead. It’s the evening but not terribly late. You still have time to make it look like you spent zero effort on your appearance. 

It’s peak hours by the time you make your way out to a bar that you've chosen for its strategic location. It's near enough to both the facility you aim to gain access to as well as housing of the income bracket likely to hold the positions with facility access. Additionally, it isn't particularly far from some people you are specifically targeting. Basically, it's on the good side of a bad area near the registrar building. You're dressed for the part you'll be playing. It's a slutty yet tasteful outfit that is tight and revealing enough while still leaving plenty to the imagination, and you have an old pre-Hal pair of your shades on. You found them on your second tour of the attic. Even if they do remind you of Bro, and make you look more like him, they are something you unironically and genuinely like. Not that you’ll admit that. As far as anyone else is concerned, you’re just being a stubborn spiteful asshole about it. But regardless, fuck if you’ll let him ruin one more thing you like. Bro’s dead. It’s your crown now.

The venue is loud and crowded, almost overwhelmingly so. You head to the bar and order a bottled beer just to have something in your hand, and then make your way to the back patio. There are a few other people out here for the same reason you are but not as many as there used to be. 

You light one up while you wait for the guy you're supposed to be meeting here. His profile from a more reputable website than where he knows you from described his position as being in facilities management, which is all fine and dandy, that likely has access, but you’re thinking it may also be a fancy way of saying lead janitorial staff. Either way, it gets you keys, real actual keys. Not every door can be hacked and picking locks is both annoying and unreliable.

When too much time ticks by for your liking, you chug what's left of your drink and go back inside to scope out the crowd. Might as well have a little fun while you wait. It’s not long before you aren’t buying your own drinks. It’s a game you know how to play well and justify by the way you separate it into work and pleasure. You’ve only ever conned people who deserve it. First sign of a soul and you would bail unless it was just good fun you were after. Maybe it’s wrong to manipulate them, to tug on all those strings dangling well within your reach, but they get what they’re after all the same. Besides, what else are you really good for? Clearly, you’re too tempestuous for anything worthwhile. Plus, there’s still a chance that you’re absolutely out of your damn mind, and who needs dignity when there’s no one left to disappoint? 

A while later you ditch some idiot to step out for another smoke. You’re beginning to think that you've been stood up and tonight’s efforts will be fruitless, when your phone vibrates. The profile hitting you up screams authority complex at merely a glance, the exact type your latest upload aimed to attract. It takes barely a minute to find out that the guy works security. You drop a few lies about getting cut off way too early and how you’re so not that drunk even. A little whining about being bored is all it takes to get a location. 

It’s like the stars aligned just for you and all they’re asking in return is for you to get on your knees. An offer you’ll gladly accept because usually, your life is more akin to a cosmic donkey show where the universe screws you in front of a live audience. Tell him what he’s won, Harvey! A whole lot of nothing, that’s what. You have a few reservations about going into this plan half-cocked without much in the way of a backup, but you can’t pass up a midnight rendezvous with a negligent security guard who has assured you that nothing ever happens after hours in the registrar office, a total snooze fest, and the place is so big nobody would know if you came up for "a little company”. He even has a private stash and since they so unfairly cut you off maybe if you ask nicely he’ll share. You can work with this. You can definitely work with this. 

He lets you in a back door and walks you to his office. You play the part, pretending you're more drunk than you are, all the while paying acute attention to the building layout. It gives you a better idea about where exactly the cameras are pointing once you reach a room full of monitors and dated computers. He sits down in a worn chair and pours you a shot of what looks to be whiskey. It is acrid. He laughs at your reaction and insists on another, saying it goes down easier the second time. Lie, just as bad if not worse. You better step up your dramatics or he really is going to ply you with the stuff. You give it a minute before playing it up like it's all going straight to your head. It's almost cliche enough to be an intelligence test. A feigned stumble as you go to lean against his desk has you oh so accidentally tumbling into his lap. He's so easy. A lick of your lips, a suggestive gaze, a shift of your hips; he's putty in your hands and he has no idea. He's so focused on getting his hands on you that he doesn't notice when you steal his badge or how a set of keys go missing when you shove aside some clutter on his desk to make room for yourself. You could bail now, change your mind, say you had second thoughts, but you don't. You have all you need but you let him continue. If anyone asked, you'd say it was to lessen suspicion and while that is a factor, it isn’t the deciding one. You let him have his way with you because it clears your head. It makes you stop thinking. You can lose yourself to the persona you've created and submerge in sensation. Right now you're just another slut looking to get some. It's simple. 

He isn't kind to you but he doesn't have to be. It's better that he isn't. Right now, you need to be used. You need to forget. You let him dump more whiskey down your throat and pretend to gag on it instead of refusing it outright. He's banking on you blacking out, he doesn't want you to remember this, but you aren't as drunk as he thinks you are. It's still you who truly has control of the situation. Or maybe it's more accurate to say that you're lending it to him and could take it back at any moment you chose. Then again, that is a certain kind of control, isn't it? Either way, you let him handle you. Subtle signals and responses goad him on, all but begging him to be rougher with you. For god sake, you’re fucking on his desk; this should be a fantasy from his wildest dreams. But it's not enough and if you push him any harder, the illusion you've carefully crafted will shatter. 

In the end, you find yourself satisfied but not satiated. 

You rip the data off his id badge while you make yourself decent in the bathroom and discreetly toss the plastic card under his desk on your way out. 

The rush of a good con and an anonymous lay is fleeting. It can be like that when your aim has more purpose to it, but even so, you find yourself coming down unusually quick as the numbness starts to settle back in. God, you don't think that guy even left a single bruise. The last guy wasn’t any better. You want it to hurt. You need it to hurt. You've never needed it to hurt more in your life. You duck into the nearest alley and light a cigarette to soothe the jittery, almost panicked feeling running through you. A hard drag has the paper crackling loudly and thick hot smoke pouring into your lungs, filling them rapidly like an impatient lover’s first thrust. You let the smoke leave your mouth slowly through parted lips while you lean back against a brick wall just outside the reach of the street lights. The decision you’re making is reckless, you know it’s reckless, but you don’t care. 

A short walk and a few minutes later, a car pulls up to the nearby bar you said you were at because it’s fun to pretend you have self-respect. You’re not a floozy this time. You won’t get what you need playing that card. The troll picking you up is looking for something more pitch than that. He wants someone who can put up a good fight but who will ultimately submit to him. As long as you feel it tomorrow, that’s just fine by you. 

#  ==> Roxy: Answer Jane.

gutsyGumshoe [G G ] began pestering tipsyGnostalgic [T G ].

G G: I need to talk to you about something.

G G: I know we've grown fairly distant over the past few years and I respond less and less frequently, but this is important so if you're taking your time to reply just to spite me, dot dot dot.

G G: Look, I'm sorry about all that's happened. 

G G: It isn't like I didn't give Dirk the time of day. It's just that what he had to say was a lot to chew on. It's hard to believe.

G G: I gave it some consideration though.

G G: I'm not saying he's right, but if someone at my company was doing something underhanded behind my back, is there some kind of computer doohickey that could tell me?

T G: isnt sluehing ur area of expertise ?

G G: If someone is hiding something from me, they're not going to play to my strong suits. I'm not so hip to computers. My company may put out some top-notch electronics but that doesn’t mean I know how they work. It isn’t my job to. 

T G: i guess.

G G: If someone is trying to sneak one by me, gosh, I just don’t know where to begin with that computer nonsense. My first thought was to trace the finances, but what if the books are cooked with an extra side of tomfoolery? Couldn’t they have done something like that movie you made me watch? What was it? The one about the hacker kids.

T G: u think someone is pulling a da veechy virus on u to hide stuff?

G G: Maybe???

G G: What even is it that Dirk thinks they could be up to? Would that be something to look for?

T G: janie u needa chillax.

T G: i can tell yur gettin all worked up off ver thurr.

T G: y the sudden change of mind?

G G: Well, I've been trying to spend more time at home recently. There isn't much else I can do for John aside from just being around. I was baking up a storm when I overheard him talking to our Dad about our Nana. 

G G: He was telling John about how Nana started her joke shop because the company was left to her brother instead of her like she always thought it would be. The conversation turned into a bunch of stories after that but the one tidbit stuck with me because I could have sworn the contract I signed didn't say that and now I can't find a copy anywhere.

T G: whatd it say?

G G: I was so sure I inherited it from her. I remember thinking she must have kept her maiden name for legal purposes even if she went by Egbert casually. I was so sure it said Miz Crocker. 

G G: This has all left a sour taste in my mouth and now I'm not sure what to think.

T G: u need some rosay an a bubble bath.

T G: no more thinkin tonight.

T G: empty haeds only.

G G: I wish it were so simple for me. A bubble bath does sound nice though. I suppose a soak and a good nights sleep would do me well and give me a clearer head come morning.

T G: atta girl.

G G: You should get some sleep too. It's getting late here and you have a three-hour head start on me.

T G: not yet i gotta check a thing first but foe sho affer.

G G: Alright, but don't stay up too much later. Good night, sleep tight.

T G: gah night.

gutsyGumshoe [GG] ceased pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG].

#  ==> Dirk: Be hungover.

tentacleTherapist [T T] began pestering timaeusTestified [T T].

tentacleTherapist: I had a feeling you may be online despite not appearing as such.

tentacleTherapist: Are you awake yet?

timaeusTestified: As a known morning person, I take offense to that statement. What has you assuming I would not be conscious?

tentacleTherapist: Call it a hunch.

tentacleTherapist: That and Roxy briefly mentioned that you were wandering back to the apartment at odd hours.

timaeusTestified: Sawtooth has had an internet connection for less than a month and she’s already in his system. I should have figured as much.

timaeusTestified: Anyway, I doubt my late-night activities are the aim of this conversation. What’s up?

tentacleTherapist: Something has occurred that I think you will find of interest.

timaeusTestified: Lay it on me.

tentacleTherapist: I was accessing the final draft of my book to see what progress Karkat had made in reviewing it. As it should have been the last file opened, I did not reed the title of the work prior to opening it. 

tentacleTherapist: What opened instead was the file that Dave had been commenting in. Of course, I instantaneously became consumed with reading it. Eventually, however, curiosity had me looking ahead to see how far along he had managed to get. He finished it.

_You're thinking this feels both incredibly familiar and important._

tentacleTherapist: Not to discredit Dave, but I had never associated him with being a particularly rapid reader. I found myself experiencing a strange combination of sorrow and delight at the surprise, but it also struck me as peculiar. If he had finished the book, why didn’t he tell me? It prompted me to look closer and upon doing so I realized that some of the entries were made beyond the date that Dave would have been able to do so. 

_It’s coming back to you now. You need to handle this delicately. If you start info-dumping about Derse, she’ll just think you’re crazy._

timaeusTestified: Huh, I feel like this is something I’m already aware of now that you mention it.

tentacleTherapist: Have you also been experiencing a powerful sense of deja vu as of recent?

Despite the massive headache you are currently experiencing, you try to see through the eyes of your dream-self. You don’t recall being awake there last night and you’re going to attribute that to the disgusting shit-tier whiskey you consumed. Despite that, you get a clear enough view and enough control to take out your dream-side phone.

timaeusTestified [T T] began pestering turntechGodhead [T G].

T T: Rose is messaging me about your comments on her book. Were you able to sync the app yet?

T G: not yet but let me see if it'll go through now.

T G: nah i got the spinning speiro graph of death again.

T T: It must have something to do with the outgoing signal issue. Can you think of anything you might have done differently between when you closed the app and when Rose told us it updated?

T G: not a fucking clue. 

T T: Alright, hit me up if you do. 

T G: ill see if hal can take a break from being mad with autonomous power for a hot second enough to weigh in on the sitch.

T T: Coolio. 

timaeusTestified [T T] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [T G].

timaeusTestified: Something like that. 

timaeusTestified: You didn’t have a lot to say in my memo. Thoughts?

tentacleTherapist: I take it you find these two situations to be related?

timaeusTestified: It was implied by the lack of a segue. 

tentacleTherapist: The letter felt extremely familiar to the extent that, at times, I was predicting sentences just before they occurred. It may have left me more open-minded than others. While you left before submitting your speculative theories for our discussion, the facts you presented us with were intriguing.

tentacleTherapist: Have you made any progress on that?

timaeusTestified: In a manner of speaking. My progress is a work in progress. I’ll have something definitive tomorrow. 

timaeusTestified: Provided I’m not arrested.

tentacleTherapist: What is the current bail money to buying your child’s love exchange rate? 

timaeusTestified: A lot.

tentacleTherapist: Noted.

tentacleTherapist: Is it better that I ask for your genuine sugar-free thoughts on the current situation after you’ve gathered the information you seek?

timaeusTestified: Yes, however, I will say one thing; try to remember your dreams.

tentacleTherapist: How cryptic of you.

timaeusTestified: You wouldn’t believe me if I told you everything.

tentacleTherapist: Are you so sure? Jade and I have been having some fascinating discussions lately.

timaeusTestified: A tempting bait but I need to nurse this hangover if I’m going to be in any shape to do what I aim to do tonight.

tentacleTherapist: Alright, I will let you go for now, but do get back to me.

timaeusTestified: Will do.

timaeusTestified [T T] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [T T].

#  ==> Be Karkat.

You didn’t think your faith in the mental health system could get lower **BUT HERE IT IS, GETTING LOWER**. Those taint-chafing cockwaffles have managed to, once again, raise your blood pressure to levels generally considered to be mild to moderately concerning. Even long after you gave them an earful, as you sit in Latula’s back seat next to him, you still can’t believe they declared Sollux well enough to leave the hospital. He was actually making some gogdamn progress. He isn’t really speaking yet or truly interacting with anything or anyone around him, but he’s doing some basic stuff when prompted like eating small portions of easily consumed foods or non-verbally answering simple non-intrusive yes or no questions on a nearly reliable basis. He’s also moving around a little more. In addition to sitting motionless for hours on end, he has added: hunched over and holding himself, curled up hiding his face in his knees, larval position, and ominous hovering with vacant gaze to his portfolio of poses. You’re pretty sure the last one is just a poor description of him sleepwalking. Apparently, that’s enough that they think intensive outpatient is the way to go. The concept itself is complete hoofbeastshit. Why bother checking him out if you just have to bring him back every damn day for the better part of said damn day? 

Not that you want him to be locked away or anything. You don’t enjoy Sollux having to be there but there is a **REASON** he was there. They kept him for a lot longer last time. Then again, he was recovering from more grievous physical injuries and had potentially fried his pan. This time around they know he’s physically sound, just extremely depressed. 

“You still fuming back there?” Latula says loudly over the radio before turning it down. You can see her glance at you in the rear-view mirror. You grumble, uncross your arms, and cross them the other way but decide that feels weird, so you recross them the right way. 

“It’s just so stupid and impractical,” you say.

“I told you, man, between me, Gamz, and Kurloz we can get him there every day no sweat. Plus, like, what if it does him some good being back at his hive and around his peeps?”

“I guess,” you sigh as you turn to look at the troll huddled in on himself beside you. 

It feels like you arrive back at the school in no time flat. Latula idles out front while you run upstairs to get some of Sollux’s things for him. When you return to the car Sollux is curled up like a grub in the back seat and Mituna is turned around halfway hanging over the center consul trying to rub his back. You switch seats with him so he can more easily do so. 

When you get to his hive, Mituna tries to coax him out of the car in hopes that he’ll float himself along, but Sollux doesn’t budge. You give it a try but get the same results. At first, the knot in your stomach tightens but then as you maneuver him, you notice his legs moving in a way that doesn’t help in the slightest, but does suggest some effort being put forth. You get him settled in the chair and he shifts to hold himself and hang his head. You aren’t surprised. The last time he was here, so was Dave. 

Latula or Kurloz must have helped Mituna straighten up earlier because their hive is fairly tidy. Or at least that’s what you think until Latula comments on it and Mituna offers a quiet ‘thanks’. You guess he was stress cleaning. He can be surprisingly functional sometimes, especially when it comes to helping Sollux. It must rout in his brain differently when it’s for his littermate’s benefit instead of his own. 

You get Sollux settled on the lounge plank before heading to his room to put away his things. When you come back, Mituna is trying to get him to eat some easy mac and it’s visibly upsetting him. He curls in on himself and becomes a ball of static. It's something he's been doing frequently since being able to use his psy-onics again. The older Captor has a look of defeat on his face. It isn't his fault. Dave ate that stuff all the time but Mituna wouldn't know that. Come to think of it, you're probably one of the people who would know Dave's eating habits best. You wave Mituna over into the kitchen and explain the situation to him, grabbing his wrist before he can throw the offending cheese-like food at whichever surface he was going to aim for. You wind up going through the kitchen just to make sure there isn't anything else that Sollux would consider a Dave food. 

You're just finishing up when a beeping sound comes from the vicinity of Mituna. He pulls out his palm husk to turn off the alarm and then drops a bottle of pills out of his sylladex. He downs one with some water and then stands still, squinting open-mouthed at nothing as if trying to remember something. Only a second later does another alarm go off, alerting him to what he was forgetting. Another pill bottle comes out of his sylladex, this time for Sollux. They gave him some strong as fuck anti-anxiety medication. It worries you that it's addictive. He really doesn't need more problems. Right now, though, it could be all that keeps him together. 

A little while later Latula takes you back to the dorm. Your keys jingle loudly in the lock and the door squeaks on its hinges as you open it. A wave of loneliness hits you. It’s too quiet. Dave’s side of the room is just as he left it and it haunts you. No one has had a chance yet to come get his things. You cleaned up a little, things like his laundry and emptying the trash. You had to make his bed too because you couldn’t stand it looking like he was just putting it off and going to get to it later. There are cardboard boxes leaning against his footboard. You got them yesterday because looking at this is making you sick. You managed to get some of his clothes into one of them but then you came across that red hoodie of his that Sollux loves so much and you froze, completely unsure about what to do with it. 

It takes a great deal of effort but you try to pack up more of his stuff. You’re about halfway through getting his desk together when you drop his pencil case and it goes spilling all over the floor. It feels like a bigger deal than it is and with a heavy sigh, you get on your hands and knees and start collecting the stray pencils while trying not to let your anguish ducts spill over. One of them rolled away under his bed. You almost leave it there but what would be the point? With a grumbled whine you lie on the floor to better reach it and your eyes catch a red box. Normally you wouldn’t think much of it, but the string tied around it gives the impression that it might be a gift. You are unfortunately correct.

You stand there staring at what is probably Sollux’s wriggling day present, frozen with indecision. Should you open it? It feels like a rude thing to do but at the same time, it might be a good idea to screen the gift. If Sollux opens it and it turns out to be something really personal then it could do more harm than good. At the same time, you don’t think you can, not right now at least. 

#  ==> Dirk: Commit a Felony. 

You are about to do something very illegal. The original plan was to walk in like you belonged there, but it was more difficult than anticipated to find out where you needed to go, ergo, harder to project the kind of confidence needed to go unnoticed in broad daylight. It's only a small loss. This is what contingency plans are for. Tonight's fallback plan is breaking and entering.

You're dressed in black pants and a dark blue hoodie, good for camouflage but still casual enough to walk down the street as long as you keep it cool. Luckily you have a lot of practice with that because this is it, tonight you find out the truth. The adrenaline is starting to hit your system as you carefully make your way up to and then inside the building with the aid of your dubiously acquired badge. 

You're a bit pissed off about how handy it is that you know how to be a stealthy bastard. You even have plenty of practice flash-stepping past security cameras, which is as much of a test of dexterity as it is endurance. It has you recalling the end of Bro’s letter, about him preparing you for something. His methods were shit but you suppose he did meet his goal. You shake the thought from your head. You need to stay focused. The room you're looking for should be large, possibly resembling a library. There are a few floors that it could be on, so you get to work looking. It would be far too convenient to be in the first location you search. It isn't in the second place you look either, but you're not too bummed out about that. It was recognizably the floor you were on last time you were here. Granted, he didn't seem very attentive, but you would prefer to be committing high-level theft on a floor without a security office and a person potentially within earshot. It was bad enough just sneaking around the place. Unfortunately, you aren't in the clear just yet. The correct floor is the one directly above it. It’s endless. Shelves upon shelves of sturdy file boxes, barbaric by current standards. One stray spark and anything that wasn’t digitized in here would be lost forever. It’s wild. You take off your shades to examine the shelf closest to you and then the one next to it. You’re closer to your birth year than Bro’s so you make your way in the direction of 1992. You’re on edge as you near the section that should hold your file. It’s a rush of almost-feelings similar to the pain recently inflicted on you in a very willing manner. You can still feel the places on your body where that guy hit you, grabbed you, held you down, bit you-- There it is. You drop a red-filtered penlight out of your sylladex and shine it on the label. Yep, that’s it. Your original birth certificate is buried and forgotten right there in that box. Any call for it would go to the facility in Austin and skip right over this place. It would be too much of a hassle to change it here. This is it. You quietly slide the box off the shelf and flip through the file tabs. SH, SL, SM, SR, ST, Strider. Strider D. That’s you. The paper is thick and textured under your fingertips as you pull it from the manilla folder and shine your light on it, eager to have your questions answered, but it isn’t your parentage that catches your eye first.

_Diedrick?_

Your eyes dart to the spot that should list your father and sure enough, there it is in bold black ink; Broderick Strider. Even your name is like his. The same root, the same vein, a variant. You’re a carbon copy down to the letter no matter how hard you try to stray. You sink down against the shelf. He’s dead and you still can’t escape him. Your obsessive nature, detachments, interests, aesthetics; you’re just like him. No matter how much you deny it, you're just like him, even in name. 

#  ==> Roxy: Pester Jake.

tipsyGnostalgic [T G] began pestering golgothasTerror [G T].

T G: u talk to dirk yet?

T G: jake.

T G: jaaaaaaaayke.

tipsyGnostalgic [T G] began pestering gardenGnostic [G G].

T G: thwap your brother for me

G G: okay :D

tipsyGnostalgic [T G] ceased pestering gardenGnostic [G G].

G T: Alright alright im here.

G T: No i havent messaged him.

T G: *sigh*.

G T: Roxy come on.

T G: ***LEY SIGN***.

G T: Not the “ley sigh”.

G T: Okay. Its just...

G T: I think he made his point pretty clear.

T G: oh rlly?

T G: wha was his point then??

T G: ...

T G: havin sone trouble typin huh.

G T: Gosh give me a minute would you?

G T: I suppose the long and short of it is that i think he might have been right. Maybe i did stay because it was easier. 

T G: u stayed cuz you cared about him.

T G: you still care about him right?

G T: Of course i do but it isnt that simple.

G T: Hes all cata-wumpuss right now and i know i should be patient with the fella but its shining light on some stuff that we never really solved so much as swept under the rug.

T G: imma be real with you jake.

T G: when you two firs started datting youwere super naive and had some pretty fucked up expectations for not juss dirk but other things too.

G T: Can you blame me? 

T G: wasnt done.

G T: Up until a few years ago i lived all my life on that island with only jade and bec for the better half of it until they put in that outpost. Even that is hours away.

T G: u look at the keys when u type dont u.

G T: Not to mention dirks courtship style is a mite bit aggressive if i do say so.

T G: okay yeah true it isnt entirely your fault and i wont disagree with you about dirk cuz he can be an intense guy. 

T G: **BUT.**

T G: the 2 of you were upposed to be working through that and TALKIN to each oter instead of expectin the other to read your mind or in dirks case more liek thinkin u know what the other is thinkin.

T G: hes got some issue that arent HIS fault either ya know.

T G: u try filterin yur feelings thru a hole the size of a cheerio an c how u do.

G T: I suppose you do make a fair point. His experiences havent lent him much in the way of matters of the heart. 

T G: u mean bro or his _~experience~_ ? 

G T: Both i suppose. I guess i do tend to think of him as being more experienced than i am when it comes to romantic pursuits but that isnt so on the money is it? 

T G: nope

T G: yur like his first heart boner.

G T: Golly i guess when you frame it that way it is a bit different. Still though it isnt right as rain this side of the pacific and he didnt give a rooting toot about it. Jade hasnt been herself since what happened to dave. Shes all out of sorts and goes days with barely a wink of shuteye. I caught her in the kitchen yesterday just standing there all nodded off but still on her feet then all of a sudden she jerked awake mumbling nonsense about the moon.

G T: Ive been digging around gramps old workshop in search of spare dreambot parts. Bec has been keeping an eye on her but shes sleepwalking again.

G T: Roxy im really worried about her.

T G: rose mentioned jade wasnt so good.

T G: she hasnt been so great herself.

G T: Oh?

T G: yeah.

T G: she stayed up at teh house a few extra days locked in her room an kayana was sayin how shes alqays tryin to sleep.

T G: hey wait no distractions!

T G: this isss about you an dirk gettin ur shit together.

T G: im not saying you gotta go to crawling back 2 him or anything but like juss don' cut him out okay?

G T: Alright i guess i could be a good sport and see how he is at least.

T G: thanx.

G T: Hey do you think hes...ya know?

T G: question mark.

G T: How he gets, dot dot dot.

G T: That way he used to take the edge off that i probably should have had a jaw and whiskey with him about because it was clearly still something of a problematic coping mechanism for him but i was a dumb butt and let him whistle my dixie like an ungentlemanly scoundrel. 

T G: oh.

T G: uh yeah he prolly is.

T G: hes not about substenceces really beyond caffeine an cigarettes. 

T G: a drink or 2 may-ve but he doesnt get wrekt too often.

T G: his poison is like i d k adrenaline maybe?? 

T G: try not ta take it personaly but yeah sawtooths logs ave him coming n goin at sum pretty suggstiv times.

G T: Dang.

G T: I guess it is rather telling if it smarts hearing that.

T G: sry.

G T: Yeah. Me too.

golgothasTerror [G T] ceased pestering tipsyGnostalgic [T G].

#  ==> Be Dave

auto-Responder [A R] began pestering turntechGodhead [T G]. 

A R: Are you taking the long way for any particular reason?

T G: god damnit. 

A R: I thought so. 

T G: at least i didnt get too far out.

A R: Since you have a few minutes to kill, how about giving the app another try?

T G: ho shit.

T G: houston we have lift off.

T G: a connection has been made.

T G: we are sending and receiving. 

A R: Make sure to log out when it's done or Rose won't be able to read it.

T G: yeah yeah i know i know.

T G: so was that the real reason you were passing on the eclipse. 

T G: you just wanted to see if my dumb ass would use the transportalizer or not?

A R: It was. I'll meet you at the catacomb entrance when you're back on Derse. Rose may even be awake by then.

auto-Responder [A R] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [T G]. 

A short while later, Jade greets Hal, Rose, and you with a crushing hug and a bright smile full of barely contained excitement that's only briefly displaced by a pout and a short comment about how she can't believe she never knew about this place. It has you smirking as you recall the look of absolute outrage she had when you first showed it to her. There’s a beat after she pulls away where she’s looking behind you as if she’s expecting Dirk to appear any second. He was supposed to be here too. You play it off real casual, give a little shrug, and tell her that he said there was something he needed to do, but that he would get the cliff notes on the eclipse from one of you later. The reality of it is a bit different though. You couldn’t help but notice how closed off he was when you saw him, preoccupied and lost in his own thoughts more so than he usually is. You shook off your concern by telling yourself that Roxy is probably needling him and he has Jake looking out for him too, so he’ll be fine even if he isn’t in the best place right now. It isn’t like you’ve forgotten but, it’s still weird to think that as far as most people know, you’re dead, and Dirk hasn’t completely ditched the idea as a possibility yet. But now isn’t the time to dwell on it, so you shove it aside and try to latch onto Jade’s excitement instead as the four of you make your way to the surface of Prahspit.

Unlike Sollux, Kanaya only has one dream-self and it's here, so you aren't surprised when Rose slips away not long after you all reach street level. She takes Hal with her, plucking him from the air to shield her eyes from the much brighter Prospitan sky. It isn’t met without overdramatic protest but Hal goes along with it anyway. 

“Come on, hurry! It’s almost started!” Jade shouts as she looks back over her shoulder to make sure you’re still following her to her tower. You have to admit, this is pretty cool. She said you can see the past and the future in the clouds, the future ones being higher up usually. It’s all out of context, but still, hopefully, that will give you some ideas about what to do next. The two of you get situated by her window, shoulder to shoulder, leaning out over the edge of the sill. Just as the clouds are starting to come into view, you catch movement in your peripheral vision. 

“Is that...?” You ask as you squint at the distant figure. Jade leans out farther to look around you.

“Oh hey, Sollux and Mituna are coming out this time!” she says this cheerfully as if it won’t concern you in the slightest. 

“What do you mean this time?” the hint of worry that seeps into your voice as you look between her and Sollux has a sobering effect. When she responds, it’s still chipper but more soft.

“Sometimes when there’s an eclipse they come out of their towers and float up into the clouds. They can go higher up because of their psy-onics, or well, Mituna doesn't go as high anymore, but they always go back to bed so I wouldn’t worry about it.” She adds the last bit reassuringly as she looks back up at the clouds very nearly close enough to read.

“Why do they do that?” You don’t have the best feeling about this and aren’t ready to drop the topic.

She gives a little shrug. “I’m not sure. They’re asleep so it’s not like they can see them. There used to be a girl from Derse that would pull Sollux down anyway but I haven’t seen her in a long time. It’s a good thing they’re both asleep though. It would probably be so confusing flying through one of those.” Again Jade tries to get on with the cloud gazing but you fire right back with another question.

“Why would it be confusing?” You’re either doing a fantastic job hiding the unsettling feeling rippling through you or Jade’s dream-self is a little oblivious. Probably a mix of both.

“Sometimes there are a whole bunch of clouds and the **VISIONS** in them shift. It’d be a sensory disaster if you went through it, or at least I would think so.” You hear what she’s saying but your brain doesn’t make it past the word **VISIONS**. Aradia used to help him with those. She would make them less confusing but Sollux wasn’t sure how she did it. And now Jade is telling you that a girl used to pull him out of the clouds, out of the clouds that show the future, the ones she thinks would be disorienting to fly through. But he’s asleep. He shouldn’t be able to see them. It suddenly clicks.

“Oh fuck, he’s half-awake.”

“What?” she asks.

“He’s half-awake,” you say without clarifying a damn thing, already in motion to jettison yourself out the window after him. 

“Dave wait," Jade says, catching your sleeve. "You won't reach him, you can’t fly that high.” Yes, you can. You break away, drop Dirk’s rocket board out of your sylladex, and land square in a crouch that lets you grab the nose as you kick it into maximum overdrive. The board lurches forward, skipping over several settings at once, but figures itself out and begins climbing higher into the sky after your moirail. You can feel the tug of gravity starting to make itself known just as you're getting close. You push harder, so zoned in on reaching him that you don't notice the cloud coming at you sideways until it's unavoidable.

You brace for impact but when it hits, you don't see anything, not really, just grainy grey striated static. You come out the other side and nearly get smacked in the face with a shoe. Your instincts scream 'duck!' but you correct at the last second and latch onto a gangly pair of legs. It's like wrangling a malevolent parade balloon on a particularly windy Thursday. You try to pull him down but his psy-onics are strong even in his sleep and you’re not making much headway. Okay, plan B, different approach. Grabbing him around the middle will probably work better than dragging him down by his legs. You let go and circle up and around to meet him more or less head-on, steadying yourself with fistfuls of gold fabric, while trying to both level out and match his height. Bro and Dirk were always better at getting this thing to hover in place, you never fully got the hang of it.

Another cloud drifts your way and swallows both of you in static. Sollux’s barely open eyes widen, not a lot, but enough that you can see the way his pupils are jittering rapidly back and forth. That happens when you dream right? “Hey, Sollux, hey, can you hear me?” It doesn’t look like it. You let go of his shirt and cup his face in your hands, running your thumbs over his cheeks, trying to pull his attention away from the clouds around you. “Wake up,” Could it be that simple? You don’t think so but you try again anyway. “Come on, please wake up. Shit, if you can even just hear me..." There’s a shift in his eyes like they’re refocusing. Can he see you? Will he remember this? Your brain scrambles for something to say, but you’re coming up empty. “You gotta wake up. I need you.” Damn it, say something more than that, something helpful. “Ask Rose about the message I sent her, okay? Ask Rose.” His expression starts to fall. You think he really might be looking at you now. God, you hope some of this sticks. “You’re gonna see me again, I promise. Just hold on a little longer.” It’s not good enough but it’s all you can think of. 

You pull him close and try again to bring him down to an altitude that won’t fuck him up so much. It’s easier this time and when you get back down to where you can fly, the light static of his psy-onics dissipates and lets you scoop him up in your arms. Your mind buzzes with thoughts of what him being half-awake could mean and how you could possibly test any theory you came up with. It's an overwhelming amount of things to process, dizzying even, but it all slows down when fingers loosely curl into the fabric of your shirt. He's still asleep but on some level, he knows you're here. 

#  ==> Be Sollux.

They let you go home. You still have to go back every day but they let you go home. You aren’t sure how you feel about it. You aren’t sure that you do feel about it. The hours still blur but your days have markers now. You wake up, someone takes you to the hospital, you do a bunch of therapeutic crap, someone picks you up and the rest of the day melts together until it’s morning again. You’re a burden on all your friends like this but you can’t get better, you’ll never get better. You don’t want to. You don’t care anymore. 

“You still in there, Solbro?” Gamzee gives your shoulder a shake, pulling you back into the moment. You’re in his room, sitting on his bed. He has his old Nintendo set up and just popped Tetris in. You tilt your head enough to see him out of the corner of your eye, but he can't tell that you're looking at him and hunches over to be more eye level with you, then repeats the question. You nod. It seems to satisfy him. He’s watching you today while Mituna gets some pile time in with Kurloz. 

You turn your awareness inward again, looking down at your hands laying limp in your lap. The scars on your face are nearly invisible, or so you’re told, but the one’s on your wrists...not so much. Angry overlapping lines of varying widths encircle them. You can still recall, with perfect clarity, the sting of tightly cinched plastic digging into your skin and the sharp flaring pain from struggling to free yourself from the metal cuffs until you just didn’t have it in you anymore. 

You’re jahrred from your thoughts by the body suddenly behind you. Gamzee has moved to sit with you between his legs, looking at the screen over your shoulder as he reaches around you. You have mixed feelings about this intrusion of your personal space. It feels nice, however, admitting that it feels nice, admitting that you're drawing any kind of comfort or consolation from it, _THAT_ feels bad. He takes your hands and puts the controller in them. You sigh. What does he think he’s doing? What good is that? The game starts and he manipulates your hands to play, but you don’t look at the screen. All too quickly you hear the distinct sound of a game over. The game starts again, and again his hands move overtop of yours to press the buttons. Game over, again, game over, again. You glance up. The first few stages are pretty slow; it’s when the game starts to speed up that he has trouble making you press the buttons fast enough. A long piece comes along just when he needs it. He could get a tetris if he can move the block over fast enough. Maybe just this once, just for the satisfaction of clearing the screen. You press your thumb down on the d-pad. He doesn’t make a big deal about it but you think he may have smiled. 

He lines up another on the next level and you slot it into place again. After that, even though he seems to be pretty good at this, the blocks move too fast for him to manipulate your hands effectively. It’s two games later, when you've helped with a few other pieces, that he speaks. It rumbles low, melting into your shoulder. 

“Karkat was tellin at me this game got them miraculous beneficiaries about it.” He was talking to KK? “We was thinking, knowing on your indisposition a the medicullers’ methodes, maybe giving them a persuasion what let you get your game on, if you’re doing.” You find this hard to believe. They wouldn’t do that. It doesn’t matter anyway. Whether you’re sitting there during craft time or group therapy or whatever they would let you skip out on, it doesn’t matter if you’re doing that or pressing buttons; everything is still shit. Why bother? Your mood is soured. You don’t help Gamzee get another tetris when the chance comes up. 

Someone must have told Mituna about their idea because after Kurloz brings the two of you back to your hive, Mituna disappears for a while and comes back with your old gameboy color. Tetris is doubtlessly the cartridge in it. He leaves it on the nutrition block table where he had asked you to sit, but thankfully doesn’t turn it on, saving you the effort of turning it off lest you be driven more insane by the theme looping on the title screen. You hear the hunger trunk open and close followed by the beeps of the microwave. Mituna is cooking something. You glance up to make sure he hasn’t confused the directions and put foil in the microwave again. Hot pockets, no foil involved. Too bad, maybe if he lit the hive on fire the universe might have mercy on your miserable existence and let you die. Who are you kidding? You wouldn't be so lucky. A weird sound has you double checking the microwave. It sounds...slow? With horror you realize that it isn’t the appliance, it’s your own perception. You really, really are not up for this. You swallow hard, trying to push down the sick feeling building at the back of your throat. A wave of dread consumes you and your fingertips go cold. Mituna makes a noise of distress as he stands arms slightly raised at either side, trying to make a decision. 

“Sol?” he asks, voice pitched high with fright. You’re both frozen to the spot, knowing full well what’s about to happen and that there's no way to stop it. The pain is sudden. It’s like the full force of a migraine all at once, splitting your pan in two. You’re on the floor before you even realize you’ve moved. The last thing you see is Mituna rushing toward you, hitting the ground, and holding his head in agony. After that, everything is blinding white. 

Flashes of sight and sound and sensation. Fire. Destruction. Pain, splitting pain thrumming through your skull. Loud voices. So many voices. 

The clack of keys typing. The sound of heels clicking on a hard floor. Someone says Roxy's name in awe. 

The whirr of a magnetic disk drive. Tight muscles from sitting hunched over. The distinct feeling of cherry switches under your fingertips. Cold damp stone. 

Then you’re somewhere else. Somewhere bright. It’s hard to see. Your name. Someone says your name. Hands on your face, calloused skin but a gentle touch. Your moirail’s touch. Dave’s face comes into view, barely in focus, but you can tell it’s him. It’s Dave. You’ll see him again. 

It’s gone too quickly. You’re back on the floor of your nutrition block. Your eyelids are heavy and sound isn’t quite right. Everything is hazy. You can see Mituna in the sliver of vision you manage to achieve. He’s trying to prop himself up on his elbows. Something is beeping in three sets of two over and over. Your eyes fall shut again. You saw Dave. A hand on your shoulder is shaking you. You try to open your eyes. Mituna is closer now. His hands aren’t steady and his movements are labored. You saw Dave. He props you up against the back of the lounge plank and shakes you again. Your eyes were closed. The beeping is still happening. Mituna is on his knees, one hand pressed to the floor and the other still holding onto you, with his head hung low as he draws in heavy breaths. You saw Dave. You had a vision and you saw Dave. You see Dave again. Dave’s dead. But you see him again. 

Motivation hits you like a hard reset. You'll see Dave again. Your psy-onics wrap around you, pulling you to your feet. Mituna says something but it’s far away. You're hyper focused, a psychological tunnel vision bordering on a trance. Desperately you try to coordinate your limbs, half your own volition and half puppeteering yourself with your psy-onics. It starts off as a shamble but your movements get more swift by the time you reach the front door. You gain momentum, a malcoordinated series of steps that resemble running as you push yourself down the hallway. You slam against the roof access door. It doesn’t open and sends you stumbling backward. You only just catch yourself with your psy-onics and try to shoulder it open again. The click of the lock popping open rings loud in your ears. Almost there. You struggle with the stairs for the first few steps in your haze before foregoing them altogether. Another door. It opens to cool air. Dave’s dead but you see him again, so you must be dead too. In a burst of effort you make for the ledge in faltered staggering strides. As long as you’re even remotely conscious, your psy-onics kick in reflexively before you can hit terminal velocity. You know from experience. But maybe this time, if you really want it, if you really try, if you fall just right... 

You make a running leap, one foot pushing off the ledge with everything you have left. Fingers graze your back but you’re just beyond Mituna's reach. You close your eyes as you plummet headfirst. It’ll all be over in a few seconds, it’ll all stop, it won’t hurt anymore, you’ll see Dave again. 

But that doesn’t happen. A body collides with yours and a hand braces the back of your neck before your psy-onics kick in against your will. The pull is harsh and jarring as he hauls you back up into the air. You land roughly on the roof and the hold on you briefly slackens before trembling arms lock around you again. You're too tired to make a break for it. Everything is heavy. Tears slip down your face. When he figures out you aren’t going anywhere, Mituna helps you sit up, bracing you by your upper arms even though he looks just as worse for wear. He’s crying too, and there’s blood running from his nose that wasn’t there before. He used his psy-onics to reach you in time. You want to be angry at him. You want to call him an idiot for jumping after you, for saving you. You want to yell at him for making you stay here where it hurts. But you can’t. You're not angry, not at him anyway.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice cracks both from disuse and distress. You’re such a piece of shit for doing this to him after all he’s done for you. 

He tugs on your psy-onics again, more carefully this time, as he picks you up and takes to the air. The world flickers. For a split second it’s Dave carrying you instead. It does it again and you’re so pathetic that you try to grab a hold of him. You know it won’t work but you curl your fingers into his shirt anyway. Or at least, you thought you did. When it stops, and it’s just Mituna again, your arms are curled against your chest. 

#  ==> Be Roxy.

CytoEtheral [C E] began pestering tipsyGnostalgic [T G].

C E: `PERCHANCE IS MY BELOVED EXISTING WITHIN YOUR IMMEDIATE PERIPHERY?`

T G: u mean mituna?

C E: `YES.`

T G: no y?

C E: `TWICE HIS psy-onic MONITOR HAS PINGED MY PALM HUSK AND I AM FILLED UP WITH CONCERN WHAT FOR HIS WELLBEING.`

C E: `MY INQUIRES AIMED IN HIS DIRECTION HAVE GONE UNRESPONDED.`

T G: u asked latula and gamzee?

C E: `YES.`

C E: `MY LITTERMATE WAS OCCUPATIONALY OCCUPIED, BUT PUT THE SUGGESTION I HOLLER AT YOU AND THE YOUNGER VANTAS IN THE INTERIM OF HIM MAKING HIS WAY BACK.`

C E:` AS FOR LATULA, SHE RESIDES IN THE PROXIMITY MOST NEAREST THEIR HIVE AND SHOULD BE APPROACHING THEIR ABODE AS WE CONVERSATE.`

T G: good thinkin on karkat.

T G: what happens if mitunas psy-onics get too low?

C E: `MY BELOVED WILL CEASE BEING OF THE CONSCIOUS MIND.`

T G: he passes out.

C E: `YES.`

C E: `SHOULD HE BE LEFT IN A STATE WHAT UNATTENDED, HE SHALL DEPART FROM THIS MORTAL COIL.`

T G: oh shit.

C E: `OH SHIT INDEED.`

T G: does mituna have like location on his phone or something?

C E: `NO, it GIVES HIM THE FEELING ON BEING PATRONIZED AND HAS HIM PROJECTING ANGER IN MY SPACE WHAT HE DOESN’T MEAN OUTRIGHT.`

T G: lemme know when you hear from latula.

C E: `NOW.`

T G: hm?

C E:` LATULA HAS MADE HASTE VENTURING AND INFORMED THE PARTICULARS UPON ME. NEITHER CAPTOR IS OF PRESENT AND SIGNS WHAT BE INDICATIVE A COMMOTIONOUS EVENT ARE OF EVIDENCE.`

C E: `VANTAS WILL BRIEF YOU FURTHER.`

CytoEtheral [C E] ceased pestering tipsyGnostalgic [T G].

You are left both confused and worried by the conversation you’ve just had. Maybe it’s because you just woke up from an hour and a half long and extremely ill advised 3pm nap. You aren’t given much time to think about it because suddenly someone is pounding on your door.

“Roxy, open up!” It’s Karkat. You wipe the sleep and a bit of eyeliner from your eyes as you get to your feet and answer the door just as Karkat starts knocking again. 

“Kurloz said you would explain what’s going on?” you ask, leaning against the door frame with crossed arms. Karkat turns a bright red and covers his eyes with his entire arm.

“YES, BUT FOR GOG’S SAKE PUT ON SOME FUCKING PANTS FIRST.” You look down to see that yeah, you are not wearing those.

“Chill, I’ve got underwear on.” 

“YEAH, WELL, OVER-WEAR WOULD BE APPRECIATED,” He continues to yell. You roll your eyes and pick up your leggings off the floor, followed by a long sweater dress to throw over the cami you’re wearing. 

“You can look now,” you say as you lace up your shoes. Karkat peeks his eyes over his arm, as if you would lie about being dressed, before actually bringing it back down to his side. “So what’s this about Mituna and Sollux going M I A ?” 

“Something happened, I don’t know what, but I think I might know where they are.” 

The Makaras’ hideous yet weirdly charming brown two door sedan comes to an abrupt stop near the main entrance and you and Karkat file in. Gamzee is driving which usually means Kurloz would be in the passenger seat but you find him jammed in the back instead. It doesn’t look too comfortable so it seems like an odd choice until Karkat jumps in the front seat and starts giving directions. Once you’re on a stretch of highway he turns around to finally give you the deets. 

“Okay so, Mituna’s psy-onics monitor went off, which he is capable of tending to himself most of the time, but if it keeps going off then it pings Kurloz’s palm husk. In the span of time between now and when he first messaged me, it’s gone off again, and _that’s_ weird,” Karkat emphasizes. “If it stopped beeping, he would be good for a while. It shouldn’t be going off again so soon. Not only that, but Latula found his container of emergency mind honey on the floor. She said it looked like he might have gotten some of it in him but she couldn’t tell for sure with it being spilled and not knowing how full it was to begin with.” 

“Which exit?” Gamzee asks. Karkat scrunches his face in irritation due to having recently conveyed that information to him. “A or B?” He clarifies. Karkat’s expression shifts to confusion and he turns around to visually check. After an abrupt turn, a creative insult/threat combo, and a few more directions Karkat twists back around to face you.

“So where are we going?” You ask while readjusting your posture from a slouch to more of a lean.

“Right, okay so-- **HOLY SHIT WOULD YOU FUCKING LOOK WHEN YOU MERGE!** ”

“I motherfuckin gazed on it; there was space.” Kurloz does a silent chuckle and for a moment there is a small smile on his face instead of worry. 

“ _ANYWAY_ , Latula is waiting back at their hive in case I’m wrong, but I think Sollux might have taken Mituna to their lusus. He’s been using his psy-onics more and his mobility has gotten a lot better so it isn’t completely stupid to think he might. It wouldn’t normally make much sense to do that, but obviously he isn’t a prime candidate for well thought out decisions right now.” What Karkat says does have a reasonable line of logic to it, but could Sollux really be well enough to do that? He doesn’t get stuck as often now but he still isn’t moving much. You dropped in last time Karkat was watching him, and saw how he would try to prod Sollux into responding if he went too long without moving. It’s a selfish thought since it’s at Mituna’s expense, but maybe this will help him? You keep hearing things about him being apathetic and unmotivated, and how it’s one of the bigger issues preventing him from progressing. Maybe Mituna needing help will slot his brain back into gear or something. You aren’t super proud of wanting that to be true, but if it’s already happening then at least there would be some good to come out of it. Plus, as long as Mituna is with Sollux he can syphon his psy-onics. That means he’ll be okay, right? Justifying the thought doesn’t leave you feeling any less shitty about thinking it.

Gamzee makes a turn down an unlabeled road with a ‘No Outlet’ sign. Gravel crunches under the tires signaling the unpaved state of the access road, and shortly after that the car comes to a stop in front of one of those chain and post blockades meant to be a strongly suggested deterrent more than to actually stop vehicles. Karkat hops out to unhitch one of the sides so Gamzee can drive through. He puts it back up and hurries to the car, but just when he reaches for the handle Gamzee rolls forward a bit so that he misses. You try to hide your smirk but Gamzee absolutely does not. It does nothing to quell the fuming look Karkat gives him through the window. It’s made worse by the fact that when he does go for the handle again, the door is locked.

“My bad, my invertibrother.” A hint of sarcasm peaks out from under Gamzee’s feigned sincerity.

“You asshole. You did that on purpose!” Karkat shouts once he’s back in the passenger seat violently pulling on the seatbelt and slamming it into the buckle with a loud click. The only response he gets is a brief chuckle. You turn to Kurloz and see that mixed expression on his face again. It has you wondering if Gamzee is fucking with Karkat to make his brother laugh or just because he can. 

You weren’t exactly sure what to expect, but pulling up to an abandoned looking office complex was not high up on your list. What catches your eye first is the lack of doors. It looks like there was once an automatic sliding door here but someone has carefully removed it and the glass panes to either side of it as well. Strung above the entryway is a black and yellow caution sign.

“Lussigh caves, Do Not Enter,” You read aloud. “Pretty weird cave. I thought Lussigh raised wigglers in hives.” Judging by the outside, you expected the inside to look trashed but it’s actually fairly well maintained for something that’s seemingly abandoned.

“They do, but not at first,” Karkat starts in the quietest voice you’ve ever heard him use. “They don’t get a hive until they’ve bonded and are sure their grub is strong enough to survive. Sometimes they leave with only one and come back later for a littermate but usually they just hang around until the other one shows up. If a troll grows up without a littermate, it means either their Lusus just didn’t come back or their littermate didn’t make it.” That seems kind of harsh but you’ve heard in passing that grub mortality is down so you guess it must be better than whatever was happening before. 

When you get past the lobby, you can see that the floor plan centers around a dual elevator shaft that acts as the backbone of a circular atrium that is enclosed only by railings and pillars on every floor. It gives you a pretty good view of the place. The curved hallway is lined with conference rooms and from where you are, you can see that there are at least three hallways splitting off from it like a pinwheel. Gamzee walks over to the railing and leans out to look up at the floor above you. He goes too far for Kurloz's liking and it earns him a tug backward by the hood of his sweatshirt. 

"We got two on up an one down low," he says with a rub to his neck. He's whispering just like Karkat was.

"There is probably a basement too," you add. Kurloz nods in agreement and signs something that you think pertains to all of you, but you aren't certain. 

"He saying we oughta all get on Scooby Dooby doing this shit, like, let's split up gang, motherfuckin 1 800 jinkies ifin you see our bro's ." Kurloz pointedly turns to look directly at Gamzee who then ruffles the back of his head. You don't think that was quite what Kurloz said.

"There is no way he said all that in three gestures. Regardless, I'm not so sure about splitting up. If this cave is only gold bloods, then it’s full of grubs that only left the brood caverns a couple months ago and you don't want to approach a lusus during the nesting season," Karkat explains while checking his surroundings. "No offense, Roxy, but if we do split up you should go with one of us." You were all on board right until the end bit. You cross your arms while simultaneously shifting your weight to one leg with a cock of your hip.

"Uh huh, and why's that exactly?"

"Because you're human, no wait, that came out wrah--",

"I can handle myself just fine, thanks." 

"No, I mean the Lussigh will see us as sub-adults. I don't know what they'll view you as."

"Uh huh. Ya know, maybe the buddy system would work best. Kurloz and I will check downstairs. How about you and Gamzee look upstairs." You don't give Karkat a chance to argue the idea. Even as you're walking off, you're already recognizing that that might have been a bit of an overreaction. To make matters worse, by the time you realize there is something of a language barrier about to happen, you're already tugging Kurloz toward the stairwell. He doesn't object, so you guess your pride gets to live another day, but you could have thought that through better. You go to grab your flask from your sylladex but don't find it. Fuck, you must have left it in the dorm. Whatever, it's fine, you can get through this without it. It's not like you're dependent, you just enjoy the stuff. It takes the edge off.

When you reach the basement it has the same style hallway. The center area, however, is smaller. Most of it is taken up by the elevator but the other side is all glass panel walls. A small plaque on the wall by the entryway says ‘Alternian Hatched Grub Snuggery’. It resembles the open area you saw below in the atrium. There are food dishes, blankets, a few small kiddie pools, and toys all neatly stacked and at the ready for next season, or in this case, new arrivals. You’re thinking this level might be a quarantine area. Maybe for the Lussigh too. You know some of them are earth born but they must bring a few from Alternia every now and then.

“Sollux and Mituna were born on Alternia, right?” You ask, giving the plaque a few taps to point out the source of your train of thought. He nods, then holds up three fingers.

[Mituna, Sollux,...] You don’t know the last word he signs but you think it might be...

“They came with their lusus?” you guess. Kurloz nods. “This place looks like a quarantine. Do you think their lusus would have come back down here?” Kurloz holds out his hands palm up and makes a seasawing gesture. Looks like a maybe. “Well, a maybe is better than wandering around clueless.” Kurloz looks to agree and for a few minutes the two of you sneak around the basement. You find a few grubs and are careful to keep your distance, but there’s no sign of either Captor. You wind up back in the circular hallway and move on to the next wing. You’ve only just set foot in the offshoot hallway when pesterchum pings.

carcinoGeneticist [C G] began pestering tipsyGnostalgic [T G].

C G: HAVE YOU GUYS HAD ANY LUCK?

T G: the basement looks like its a quarantine zone for alternian born grubs and maybe Lussigh too.

T G: do u think their lusus would come back down here even after bein on earth for so long?

CG: I’M NOT SURE BUT EVEN IF HE ISN’T SUPPOSED TO, HE MIGHT HAVE ANYWAY BECAUSE BICLOPS ISN’T THE SHARPEST SICKLE IN THE ARMORY. 

CG: WE’LL MEET YOU DOWN THERE SOON.

carcinoGeneticist [C G] ceased pestering tipsyGnostalgic [T G].

You get a few more feet down the corridor when Kurloz stops short and tilts his head like he’s straining to sense something. He turns to you suddenly and takes up your wrist to pull you along in a weird half run, eager to get wherever he’s going but still trying to be quiet. You are not super shocked that you arrive at the threshold of a large open room with a concrete floor, high ceiling, and visible beams and duct work. It looks like it was once a computer hardware depot. There are old parts and peripherals strewn about, and shelves full of clunky laptops, and desktop monitors. The desktops themselves are clustered in stacks around the room. There are even a couple old Xerox copiers and fax machines. It’s an absolute mess of e-waste that clearly left a deep impact on your kismesis if this is the same place he was raised before being hived. The two of you step slowly and carefully, keeping a keen eye out as you progress deeper into the room. You turn down a row of shelves packed with boxes and boxes of different cables and power supplies. There is an aisle between this row and the next. Kurloz goes high and you go low as the both of you try to peak around the corner.

Your eyes go wide. Only twenty some-odd feet in front of you is a massive two headed cyclops. You guess ‘biclops’ wasn’t a typo after all. Even sitting down he’s gigantic. It’s no wonder he’s here; he needs the headroom. More importantly though, nestled together in his arms are Sollux and Mituna.

“Holy shit, _THAT'S_ their hmm hmph--,” a hand comes over your mouth and an arm juts out on your left to point at a small yellow grub. It’s looking right at you, frozen mid step. The cable of a computer mouse it must have been playing with falls out of its mouth and its eyes go watery with fear. The poor thing is scared shitless.

“Peep!” One little chirp and both of Biclops’s eyes spring open. He belts out a deep roar and lunges out to scoop up the frightened grub. You duck back behind the shelves hoping that he didn’t see you.

“What did you do!” Karkat hisses from the other side of some boxes as he shoves them aside to glare at you.

“We didn’t do anything!” you whisper-shout back at him. He and Gamzee sneak around to where you and Kurloz are and the Makaras start silently relaying information to each other at a rapid pace. You can hear Biclops moving around behind you. Carefully you nudge aside a milk crate full of mice. Through the small opening you can see him gently placing the little grub next to Sollux and Mituna in a nest of wires, keyboards, and shipping materials. With his wigglers safe, he turns back to the general direction of you four, and roars again before standing his full height. There is a thud above you as his large hands grip the tops of the shelving units, tipping them back and forth. “Shit, everybody out. Move, move!” you shout as you practically shove Karkat into the open aisle and grab whichever Juggalo is directly behind you, evacuating into open space just as Biclops sends everything around you toppling like poorly secured bookcases.

The space that you’re all backing into is cluttered but not very good for hiding and it would be useless at this point anyway. You can’t run either though; Mituna still needs help and Sollux probably does too. You’re looking for a way over there when Gamzee and Kurloz come up on either side of you in a wordless ‘get behind us’ gesture, which is practical since they can really take a hit as highbloods, but is still something that irks you. Karkat on the other hand, is walking right up to Biclops.

“IT’S ME YOU ASSHOLE!” he yells before making a terrible screeching sound. For a second, as the two heads look at one another, you think that might have actually worked, but you’re quickly proven wrong when they then look back at Karkat and give him a toothy snarl. Karkat lets out a surprised chirp and steps backward, falling over an errant desktop. Biclops doesn’t advance on him but he doesn’t reign in the intimidation either. If you can just get to Sollux maybe he can calm down his lusus. You’re mapping out a path when--

'CLACK CLACK CLACK CLACK' Crab Dad rushes in to stand between Karkat and Biclops, and assumes what you can only describe as a powerful anger squat, while emitting a loud “SKREEEEEEEEEEE!” You will never unsee the family resemblance. The other lusus hollers back but it doesn't phase Crab Dad in the slightest. He gives him a good pinch and shrieks at him again. 

“You’re welcome,” comes a voice from the doorway. You turn to see Kankri standing, arms crossed, leaning against the door frame.

“WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG? I MESSAGED YOU OVER AN HOUR AGO!” Karkat yells while stomping over to his brother.

“And it takes forty-five minutes to get here," Kankri replies.

“Bullshit!” Karkat counters.

“Some of us are considerate of others' wellbeing and prefer to drive the speed limit,” Kankri says smugly. With the wealth of distractions happening, this seems like a good time to sneak away. You scoot past a few stacks of junk, shimmy through a gap, and shove aside some boxes. You can hear someone following behind you and when you finally make it out into the open again, your suspicions are confirmed that it's Kurloz. 

You both hurry over to where your respective quadrentmates are. They've scooted closer to the edge of the nest to sit like it's a giant bean bag chair. Sollux has his head on Mituna's shoulder and Mituna has his arm around him. It strikes you as odd. Shouldn’t it be the other way around? Mituna is the one who's hurt and yet it looks more like he's the one doing the comforting. You take a seat beside your kismesis while Kurloz gently persuades his moirail to let go and come sit a little ways away with him. Mituna’s wrist monitor immediately starts going off the minute they’re separated but your focus is on the way Sollux moves closer to you, as close as he can get. Him moving at all is great but there is something off about this.

“Hey there,” you try to say playfully. Despite the attempt, concern still seeps into your tone. It’s only when you wrap your arms around him and he buries his face in your neck that you realize he’s only after your body heat. He isn’t getting mushy on you; he’s cold. Mituna was clearly leeching off of him but does it really drain him that much? 

By now Biclops has noticed something is amiss and is stomping his way back. To your relief, Crab Dad gets ahead somehow and scuttles back and forth between you, clacking his claws and chattering. 

“Whoever has a sweatshirt they can take off without becoming indecent needs to hand it over pronto,” you shout at the others, who are emerging from behind Biclops, while you rub Sollux’s arm. Although it won’t do much in the way of actually warming him up, it does better emphasize the reason for your request. Gamzee pulls off his hoodie first and tosses it to you. It was probably the better choice, regardless, since it’s big enough to comfortably fit over the sweatshirt Sollux is already wearing. You help him get his arms through and then he abandons you like chop liver, because Karkat has sat down on his other side and whoever runs the warmest is his favorite right now. 

“Fuck, you’re as cold as Ter-- as a teal blood. Get your ass over here,” Karkat grumbles while already pulling Sollux into his lap and enveloping him. Your eyes drift past them to Mituna who is more coherent now after having chugged a bunch of mind honey. He looks upset. You have no idea what he’s saying to Kurloz, but the other troll has to keep pulling Mituna’s hands away from his head to stop him from hitting himself. You pick up a few names though. You see the sign they gave Dave and it puts a tight knot in your chest. 

“Damn, ain’t no wondering bee man’s colder than the fish bitch’s heart,” Gamzee says from where he’s just sorta lurking to your right. You look up at him and he gestures with his chin toward the two of them. “Karkat only on being half right in his speculatives. Tunabro’s the one what flew em here.”

“MITUNA FLEW YOU HERE?” Karkat yells a bit too loudly for how close he is but has the decency to not do it directly in Sollux’s ear. The yellow blood nods against his collar. “Are you completely pan fried?! He can’t regulate your psy-onics! You could have fallen right out of the fucking sky!”

“Karkat, I don’t think Sollux is in any condition for you to be chastising him for his understandably impaired judgement,” Kankri chimes in having finally wandered closer.

“Shut your suck hole! Berating his poor life choices is the cornerstone of our friendship!”

“Wait a sec, hold up,” you interject, cutting off the impending Vantas x2 rant. “Sol, why was Mituna flying YOU here?” He, of course, doesn’t answer. You redirect the question to Gamzee instead, but all you get back is an uneasy face. “You can’t say?”

“Ain’t my place to.” You get it. He’s pretty much eavesdropping on Mituna and Kurloz while they feelings jam. Even what he’s already said may have been borderline rude to repeat.

“I think this might warrant an exception. Aside from the obvious, what’s wrong with him?” Karkat stares him down but Gamzee just shakes his head.

“Unless Solbro is wantin me to, I ain’t sayin shit.” There is a little edge to his voice that has Karkat glaring at him harder. Kankri looks like he’s about to speak up but someone else does first.

“He had a vision.” All eyes turn toward the sound of a recognizable but not previously here voice. 

“Dirk?” Your confusion rings in the sudden silence of the large room. 

He's standing on top of the nearest overturned shelf with Nepeta on his shoulders and geez what happened to him? He looks like he lost a fight. There’s a length of gauze wownd around one arm, bruises on the other, a pad of gauze and bandage tape peeking out from under the collar of his shirt, and his neck is peppered in more bruis-- oh, oh, those are hickies. He’s fine. 

Nepeta gives an enthusiastic wave that gets abruptly interrupted by Dirk jumping down to the ground and her holding on for dear life. He calmly walks over to your group but it’s you he looks at with that barely readable smirk of his. 

“Sup.” 


	17. Chapter 35: ORD3R 1N TH3 COURT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw, I'm having surgery next month. So, if this fic suddenly stops updating then something went horribly wrong. it's relatively routine so I should be fine but ya never know.
> 
> update: my surgery got moved back a little later in the month (nov. 24th) so i may post another chapter before then. still trying to decide where I want to cut that one off cuz sometimes i feel like i'm just dumping plot without mixing in any fluff and by god i will bring the feelings. We're so close to getting into the game y'all, i'm itching to write it but the chapters just keep happening.

# ==> Be Roxy.

“Don’t you ‘sup’ at me, mister. How the hell did you get here?” you ask as you square up with Dirk. You know that he knows that you know where he's been.

“We took an uber.” There is a smartass look on his face that you do not have the energy for.

“It was so cool!” Nepeta yells before you can come back with anything, leaning forward over Dirk’s head. You look up at her with a raised eyebrow. “He messaged me on troll-ian asking me all sorts of purrculiar questions about your mirror and then told me to take the glass out. There’s a magic window behind it!” You double blink. "Mew should have seen it! He came out of nowhere!"

“No way, you got that thing to work?” Not to ignore Nepeta's excitement, but you're a little ticked off that Dirk figured it out before you did, especially after all that work you put into examining it what feels like forever ago. You only managed to get a hold of a very early version of its documentation from your mother's study, which was more theory than explanation. It was littered with cross-outs and re-writes in what looked like her handwriting, but you don’t know who the original author of it was. From what you could gather, it seemed like a flat panel version of the sendificator. It didn’t go anywhere though. Nothing you threw in there ever came back out and when you sent a camera down there all you got back was a video feed of darkness. Even if it didn’t work, it was still cool looking and it did emit some light so you slapped a mirror on the front and called it a day.

Dirk gives you a slow subtle nod. “Turns out it wasn’t broken; it functions as a set. Bro had the other one. Whether your mother gave it to him or he stole it is debatable.”

"And you decided to test it by launching yourself into the void?" Is every boy you know sharing a single brain cell? It must be Karkat's turn with it today.

"I had good reason to believe it would work," he says with a shrug. You catch the way he holds back a wince and wonder how bad of a wound is hidden under that bandage peeking out from his collar.

“Motherfuckin portal connecting one hell state to another. Fucking miracles, man.” You glance over your shoulder to see Gamzee has stolen your spot in the mountain of e-waste. Karkat is eyeing him in a way that suggests if he even THINKS about touching Sollux, he’ll be down a limb.

"That's not all." Dirk kneels to let Nepeta down from his shoulders before pulling out his phone. He’s about to show you something when Karkat interrupts him.

“HOLD THE FUCK UP. WHY ARE YOU HERE, HOW DID YOU EVEN KNOW WHERE WE WERE, AND HOW DO YOU KNOW SOLLUX HAD A VISION?” You’re surprised Karkat is just taking Dirk’s word for it. Then again, Gamzee didn't correct him.

“I have my ways." He answers flatly, but you can still see that tinge of a smirk, that slight catch in the corner of his mouth that says he is brimming with anticipation for something.

“CAN YOU STOP BEING A CRYPTIC CHUTE-MUNCH FOR ONE FUCKING SECOND AND ANSWER MY QUESTIONS?”

“No.” Dirk says. You swear you see a vein throb in Karkat’s forehead. “Look, I’ll explain everything, but it’ll make more sense if--” Kurloz loudly claps his hands together to command everyone’s attention and signs around the troll currently occupying his lap.

“Kurloz up and saying maybe it be best if we get hashin this out in a time what isn’t the present,” Gamzee helpfully translates. Best idea you’ve heard all day. You are far too sober for this. You’re itching to check your sylladex for your flask again, but you know it isn’t there.

“Yeah, okay,” Karkat says more softly before he gives Sollux a gentle shake. “Oh no you don’t. If you had a vision, you can’t sleep yet.” It’s a little late for that you think, but you keep the comment to yourself. No point in stirring things up. “Gamzee can take you three back to campus. Me, Kurloz, Mituna, and Sollux, and my lusus can go back to my hive with Kankri.”

“That won’t work.” There is a firm tone to Kankri’s voice and the way he crosses his arms authoritatively as he steps nearer isn’t going to do anything to make the approaching squabble any better. “Our car only seats five. We’ll need to take them to the school first and then Kurloz can either follow us back or if he and Mituna would like some privacy, they can go back to Kurloz’ hive. Alternatively, we could--”

“HOLY SHIT, it’s one extra person! We’ll fit in the back just fine.”

“There are not enough seatbelts in the backseat for four people. Road safety is important, Karkat. Not wearing one’s seat belt, especially in the middle seat, could potentially result in extreme injury or death. Even in a low-speed collision, there is a high risk of injury when safety guidelines are ignored and I request that you respect my adherence to the rules of the road and the safety of your frien--”

“Don’t make me put your ass in the trunk!” There is a beat of silence while Kankri stares at Karkat before he concedes and it makes you wonder if Karkat has actually thrown Kankri in the trunk on some other occasion or if Kankri has the sense to see that everyone is a little tense and this isn't currently the biggest issue.

Before you split up, you say a quick goodbye to Sollux. You poke fun at him, trying to keep it lighthearted and to your surprise, you actually squeeze a response out of him. Maybe some good really will come out of all of this. You say as much while your group heads out to the car and Gamzee starts going on about miracles, which turns into slam poetry, which turns into a rap battle between him and Dirk. It’s pretty impressive how well Gamzee could keep up while driving. It’s a nice little break from the stress of everything going on, especially since you know Dirk is about to drop a different kind of knowledge the minute you get back to your room. You’ve been keeping tabs on him, so you have a fairly good idea about what he found, but his conversations with Rose (which you probably should not have been reading but did anyway) have you hoping he’s ready to reveal whatever it is he’s been shifty about telling everyone. You hope it’s some good shit because if things go the way they did last time, you aren’t sure you can do damage control like that again.

#  ==> Be Sollux a few minutes ago.

Karkat is so warm. There's some kind of something happening around you but you're almost entirely oblivious to it. Dirk is here and you think you hear Nepeta too. Yeah, that's Nepeta. She's excited about something. Roxy is less enthused. She sounds tired. Doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is that Karkat is melting away the chill you haven't been able to shake for... well, you aren't sure exactly; however long you've been here. His voice rumbles in his chest as he yells at everyone. You think he might be barking orders. Whatever, it's not your problem. You drift a little and Karkat seems to notice. He gives you a gentle shake and tells you that you can't go to sleep yet. Little does he know you've been drifting in and out of it since Mituna brought you here. Or maybe he does know and that’s why he’s trying to keep you conscious. You start doing it again and are shaken awake by a different hand this time; it's Roxy. She looks at you fondly and says something about you being a body heat hoe before kissing your forehead and lightly flicking one of your horns for being so reckless. You muster the smallest of growls. There's an audibility to the smile that her laugh hums behind.

Karkat lets you sleep in the car and you wake up a little foggy but surprisingly rested when you arrive at his hive. He tugs you along while you float and look at your surroundings. Where did everyone go? Kankri is waiting by the door, holding it open for you and KK, and Crab Dad is inside but where did-- oh, there's Mituna and Kurloz, but where are Dirk, Nepeta, Gamzee, and Roxy?

[Where spade?] it feels like you did that very slowly.

"You're asking about Roxy?" Karkat says while he guides you to one of the lounge planks not occupied by Mituna and Kurloz. Right, Karkat knows even less sign language than you do. You nod as he gives you a little push to sit, letting you take the motion from there and bring your own legs up. It's still hard to initiate things but it's getting easier to continue something once you get going. It's not like you can't move. You aren't trapped and freaking out about it. No, it's more like you know you should move, you need to, but then... you just don't, and there's not enough motivation to overcome the effort required to do so. Everything takes so much effort. Even the simplest things are exhausting. At least that's how it’s been since things have become a bit more lucid for you. Or was? There's something different now but you aren’t sure what exactly. "Gamzee took her and Dirk and Nepeta back to the dorms. They were going on about some bullshit. Don't worry about it. Are you still cold?" Karkat asks, putting a hand to your shoulder. You nod. "I'll ask my lusus to put on some scalding leaf fluid and then I'll be right back. Mituna and Kurloz are going to go pile in one of the spare respite blocks. He still looks really upset." You nod again and there is a twinge of a smile on his face.

He barely makes it to the nutrition block when it starts to happen again. You tense up and a stifled sound of pain leaves you. This is the second time now that your think sponge is trying to process what you experienced earlier. Karkat comes rushing back and pulls you close in a feeble attempt to mitigate the splitting pain that has you tightly gripping your pan. At first, you focus on him, anchoring yourself with how warm he is, but when you see Dave, you let go. 

_Thumbs brush over your cheeks. He’s talking to you but you can’t quite hear him yet over everything else happening. You try to focus on just him, on the way his lips move to form words and-- “I need you”. His voice cuts in and out like a bad connection. You get bits and pieces, clusters of sound, fragments of words. He’s looking at you so intensely, so desperately. “Okay? Ask Rose.” You’re losing your focus on him. No, you want to stay. You miss him so badly. “You’re gonna see me again, I promise.“_

Karkat holds you tighter while you incoherently whine into his neck. He breaks his own rule and tells you that it’s okay, it was just an aftershock, you’re at his hive, and you’re okay. A few deep breaths and reality starts to settle back in. His face is drawn tight with worry when he pulls away enough to look at you. You only half acknowledge it because you’re looking past him, not at him. It was clearer this time, but there was still so much interference, other stuff happening around you, a different vision. It was like he hijacked it. You had thought it was your own thought before, but it was Dave that said you would see him again. He promised you would see him again. Do you see him again and he tells you that or was that really him? Aradia believed in ghosts but you were always on the fence about it, even after everything that happened. Was that Dave’s ghost trying to reach you? Can they do that? Aradia said she could hear the dead. They told her things; sometimes the future, sometimes the past, sometimes where she left her keys. Could this be like that?

You don't realize that your anguish ducts are watering until Karkat is dabbing away stray tears.

"What did you see?" There's no way to phrase it without frightening him so you just shake your head and slump back against the lounge plank. As Crab Dad comes by with your scalding leaf water, a distinct and persistent pinging starts to come from Karkat's pocket. He answers it with an irritated grumble. Crab Dad sets Karkat’s leaf water on the coffee table but holds yours out to you. Your still cold, you need to warm up, you need to take the fucking tea. You know this and yet you don’t move. _He said he needs you. Dave said he needs you._ Crab Dad clicks encouragingly. It has Karkat picking up his head. There’s an initial jump of movement from him, but he freezes when he sees you reaching for the cup yourself. Dave needs you. If you can’t even do something as simple as reaching out to take your scalding leaf fluid, then what are you good for? You wouldn’t say it’s easy, but it isn’t as hard. You would liken it to shifting down to a lower gear on a two-wheeled device. Not the right gear, but a better one none the less. If it means seeing Dave again, you’ll find the energy somewhere somehow to power through it, even if it kills you. Hell, maybe that's how it happens. Anyway, regardless, as a bonus, the small task has Karkat’s ever-tense shoulders easing...at least until pesterchum pings again.

“Ugh, why does everyone need my attention right just fucking now?” He gripes while falling back into the lounge plank. “Great! Now who's trolling me-- oh, it’s Kanaya.” Reading the conversation isn’t the aim of resting your head on his shoulder but the screen is in your line of sight. If Karkat truly cared, he would say something, so you take his silence as an invitation.

grimAuxiliatrix [GA] began trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG].

GA: Is Sollux With You?

CG: YES, WHY?

GA: Rose Awoke In A Panic And I May Have Taken A Peek At Her Dream Journal While She Was Preoccupied With Messaging Jade.

GA: I Was Only Able To Glance At It Lest I Be Detected But I Did See Sollux's Name.

GA: Is He Alright?

GA: As I Said Before Rose Seemed To Be Very Concerned When She Woke Up.

CG: KIND OF. HE'S OKAY NOW BUT HE HAD A VISION EARLIER. IT WAS THIS WHOLE BIG THING BECAUSE MITUNA TOOK SOLLUX TO THEIR LUSUS. I STILL CANT BELIEVE THAT PAN FRIED DOOFUS ACTUALLY LET MITUNA FLY THEM THERE.

GA: I Would Have Thought Mituna More Likely To Simply Call His Moirail.

CG: I CAN'T BLAME HIM TOO MUCH. HIS LEVELS WERE REALLY LOW WHEN WE FOUND THEM SO HE PROBABLY WASN'T THINKING STRAIGHT. WHICH IS YET ANOTHER REASON HE SHOULD NOT HAVE BEEN FLYING.

GA: Do You Know If Humans Can Have Prophetic Abilities?

CG: SOME WOULD SAY YES BUT it ISN'T PROVEN.

GA: What About Jade?

GA: It Seems To Be Common Knowledge That She Is On Occasion Known To Have Particularly Keen Intuition.

CG: I GUESS MAYBE? NO ONE SEEMS PHASED BY IT THOUGH. I THINK THE MOST ACKNOWLEDGEMENT I'VE EVER HEARD it GIVEN WAS DAVE CALLING IT CREEPY.

GA: Perhaps I Am Making An Elevated Plain Out Of A Dig-beast Mound.

GA: Karkat In Your Honest Opinion.

GA: Do You Think My Observance And Critique Of My Matesprits Behavioral Change Is Rooted In Jealousy?

CG: NO, I THINK YOU’RE JUST WORRIED ABOUT HER BECAUSE YOU GIVE A FUCK. HER AND DAVE WERE CLOSE. SHE’S GRIEVING. I WOULDN’T BE SURPRISED IF HER AND JADE WERE DOING THAT HUMAN BONDING THING THAT THEY INSIST ISN’T PALE.

GA: That Does Seem Logical.

Rose is acting strange? Dave told you to ask Rose something. You aren’t sure what, that part wasn’t clear, but it feels important. “Kk.” Your voice is quiet and laced with a hollow tone that speaks to how horrifyingly awful you feel. Even so, the surprise of you speaking at all makes Karkat jump.

“You okay?” he asks. You nod. “Do you need something?” You’re about to shake your head but pause. If you tell him about Rose, you’ll have to tell him about Dave. You need to think of a different way. “Sollux?” He sits you up so he can face you as if that will help him figure out what you want. Maybe you could just talk to Rose directly. You look down at your hands and make a motion like you’re texting, then flit your gaze up to see if his followed. “You want your Gameboy?” A fair guess you suppose. You shake your head and the small bit of hope that you're being proactive in your recovery fades from his face. He’s quiet for a moment that seems too long to you but probably isn’t. “Oh, you want your palmhusk.” You nod. The grimace that comes over his face can’t mean anything good. Does he think you can’t handle using it? Shouldn’t he be happy you’ve even requested anything at all? Everyone keeps telling you to try but now that you are, he’s giving you this look like he isn’t sure he should let you have your palmhusk and-- .“It’s uh,” he starts. “We um, we found your palmhusk in your room but it was in a lot of pieces.” That bastard broke your palmhusk? You’re good about backing up your stuff, so it should be more annoying than upsetting, but...you really liked that one. You clench your jaw tight and look away. “I saved the memory card though. We can get you a new one whenever you feel up to it.” You try to keep it together because you’re trying to accomplish something here and you know it’s stupid that you’re this upset over something so replaceable. It still hurts. It feels like such a defeat. The first time you really try to step forward and the universe just laughs and knocks you back down. “Why did you want it? Is it something you could do on my husktop?” You pick your head back up and stare back at him with a wide-eyed expression that broadcasts you having completely forgotten about that as a possibility. “Yeah?” You nod and he genuinely smiles as he gets up, presumably to go get it for you. 

You swear this keyboard has to have something in it. There’s no way the keys are this hard to press. The trackpad is thankfully set to tap click so it isn’t hard to navigate to and sign Karkat out of Trollian (relatively speaking) but signing in feels like every key is intimately familiar with whichever Faygo has the most sugar. You know that’s probably not the case. Your fine motor skills are not great right now. With every keystroke, part of you wants to say fuck it more and more. You can’t though, you have to do this. There’s purpose in this, actual purpose, not some imaginary goal of getting better. Dave needs you to do this.

twinArmageddons [T A] began trolling tentacleTherapist [T T].

T A: rose.

T T: Sollux, how serendipitous; I was recently speaking of you.

T T: How are you?

T A: bad.

T T: I cannot say that I am surprised by that, I anticipated as much, although I am glad to see that you are in better health than last I saw you.

T T: What has you contacting me?

T A: ask u something.

T T: Your style of typing is different. Would I be correct in concluding that you are applying common substitutions and omitting punctuation in an effort to alleviate some of the strain this task must be putting on you?

T A: yes.

T T: What is it that you wanted to ask me?

T A: i d k.

T T: Did my inquiry cause the question to slip your mind? I will be online for some time if you require a moment to recall it.

T A: no.

T A: only kno i ask.

T T: You know that you ask me a question but you do not know what that question is?

T A: yes.

T T: That sounds like something Jade might say. It's actually nearly identical to something she has said rather recently. I find her to be very clairvoyant at times despite her self description of merely having exceptional intuition. Is this knowledge, perchance, of a prophetic nature?

T A: vision.

T T: May I ask what this vision entailed?

T A: yes.

T T: I’m glad you have retained or are in the process of regaining a sense of humor. Alright, I shall now ask. What other details are you currently willing to share with me?

T A: someone told me to.

T A: ask rose.

T T: That sounds past tense. I was under the impression that your visions were of the future. You are also omitting the speaker. Do you know who told you this?

T A: yes.

T T: Are you able to tell me?

T A: no.

T T: I may be better able to find you both the question and perhaps an answer if I know who instructed you to ask.

T T: If you are apprehensive due to feelings of uncertainty regarding the consequences of disclosing such information, I can extend an offer of strict confidentiality.

T A: it was dave.

T T: I see. I would like to ask you something regarding your vision, however, I am fairly certain it may upset you. I’ve already stated that I would keep this between us but for the purpose of reassurance, if you are willing to answer my question, I will neither repeat your answer nor will I hold it against you to decline answering. That said, may I continue?

T A: yes.

T T: Given that your past experience with visions has been solely of a predictive nature, after having this most recent one, wherein you see Dave, did you do something that would be referred to as “drastic” if spoken of discreetly? 

T T: Are you still there?

T T: This is not an interrogation of your mental health and in no way do I intend to use this information in a perceivably malicious sense. My reasons for asking are actually quite selfish. Did you try to jump off the roof earlier today?

T A: how did u kno?

T T: Jade and I both dreamt of it. We have had many similar dreams as of late. At first, I thought my own were merely a byproduct of grief and counseling Jade about hers. There were doubts, and after this incident, I was left wholly uncertain, but something else has occurred even more recently that has me reevaluating what I hold to be true.

T T: The question Dave wants, or by your phrasing, wanted you to ask me, I think I may know what it pertains to. That said, I do not believe it is best to disclose my theory yet. I would like to seek advisement first on the occurrence in question. I will get back to you as soon as possible.

T A: no.

T A: tell me.

T A: please.

T T: I realize the importance this must hold to you and do not wish to unintentionally make things worse by prematurely attempting to ease your sorrow. Get some rest and I will update you with my findings tomorrow.

T A: when?

T T: You are released from outpatient in the early afternoon I assume?

T A: yes.

T T: I will contact you sometime shortly thereafter.

T A: ok.

tentacleTherapist [T T] ceased trolling twinArmageddons [T A].

You sign out of troll-ian, close the lid of Karkat’s husktop, and then brace yourself with your hands on the edge of the coffee table. You did it. You bent over, reached deep deep down inside yourself, so deep that somewhere in a galaxy distant enough to have not had the misfortune of encountering your species is a porn star who suddenly feels an intense jealousy for the shear capacity of your cavernous chute, and somewhere in the void of your entrails, you managed to not only find a spec of energy but pull it from your ass too. You asked Rose. Step one accomplished... And now you’re stuck. You aren’t really concerned about it. That’s part of why you’re stuck actually. The situation isn’t awful enough for you to care. You aren’t comfortable but the position you’re locked in isn’t unbearable either. Karkat will probably realize you’re stuck anyway in a few seconds and move you which further drops moving yourself as a priority. Even if he didn’t, worst-case scenario, you collapse and pass out mostly on the floor. It isn’t exactly an awful fate and after wearing yourself out, the motivation to effort ratio is now-- Oh, there’s Kk. Before you can get any further in your spiral of apathetic hypotheticals Karkat is gently easing you back against the lounge plank. His face is barely composed and it looks like it’s taking everything for him to stop his anguish ducts from spilling over. It isn’t sadness that’s choking him up though. He starts to try to form a sentence but doesn’t get very far, and instead wraps you in a crushing hug. You should return it. You don’t. Karkat is sniffling when he finally pulls away.

“You look fucking exhausted so I won’t ask you right now what that was about. I’m just--” He wipes away a stray tear with the heel of his hand. “After everything today, I thought things were going to get worse, so it’s just.” He knocks a puff of air from your chest with the force of another tight lingering hug. “Sorry. You’re probably pretty beat.” That is an understatement. “I’ll go get the guest recuperacoon ready.” He’s already a few steps away when your speech muscles finally get their shit together and let you respond.

“Thanks, Kk.” The simple sentence has him making a high pitched sound and stopping in his tracks. Kanaya is going to have a lot on her hands tonight.

You dream of Dave. You dream of his voice and his touch. He’s holding your hand like he’s at your bedside, on your left as always. When he speaks, you can’t hold onto the words for long but the feeling of them lingers. He feels sorry and sad. You think about opening your eyes but the thought gets muddy before it can even get close to becoming an action. It’s reminiscent of when you were less aware in the hospital.

The next morning Kankri drives everyone to their respective destinations. You know something is up when Kurloz sits next to you in the back seat and breaks out the whiteboard. As you expect, he wants to have a serious conversation with you and make sure you fully understand him. You aren’t stupid; you know Mituna must have told him everything. Initially, you are inwardly panicking, thinking he’s only giving you the courtesy of a heads up before he tells everyone that you tried to kill yourself. Instead, it turns out that he wants your input on what happened. He asks you questions in a way that you can easily answer, which makes sense when you think about it; he deals with mutism every day. Ultimately he’s trying to gauge whether it was a stress-induced one-off brought on mostly by you having a vision and he can trust that you won’t try to do that again, or if he has to tell someone about this. They’ll lock you right back up if he does. A few days ago you wouldn't have had much of an opinion on that. You probably would have just shrugged. Today though, you find yourself giving a damn. The simple act of expressing that, of having a desire for anything, and probably your most recent “progress” sways him. He also tells you that he will never forgive himself if you’re lying to him and hurt his moirail. He writes it on the whiteboard, shows it to you, and then makes extremely intimidating eye contact. It’s an opportunity for you to come clean because he wants to believe you but also recognizes the situation for what it is. It’s also something of a threat. You hold your ground, promising it won’t happen again by way of little prong swearing, and he smiles while erasing the board in one swift movement. You weren’t entirely honest with him and he could probably tell, but it’s true that you aren’t going to try to off yourself. You do have the distinct feeling that you’re going to die, after all, you see Dave again and he’s dead, however, you also feel like there are things you need to do first. Your visions haven’t lied to you yet. At some point, you’re fairly certain you’ll be wracking your brain with some kind of coding-related aggravation. The cherry switches you felt under your fingers are on the keyboard you use when you’re especially frustrated because it makes a nice clicking sound.

Karkat opts to be dropped off last so he can talk to your doctors about your improvement (leaving out all the bad details because he’s great like that) and try to sweet talk them into letting you play Tetris as an alternative activity. You were hoping it would be an alternative to group therapy but you’ll take what you can get. 

Your doctors prod you for speech but you don’t waste the energy. You carry on just as you have been, the only exception being when they let you use your Gameboy instead of sitting stock still during craft time. It. it actually is pretty soothing as far as momentary distractions go. It’s the only time your eyes aren’t watching the clock. Time has never moved more slowly. You repeatedly have to remind yourself that it _will_ pass, you _will_ get out of here, and Rose _will_ message you about Dave. When Latula picks you up, you are practically vibrating with anticipation. She mistakes your restlessness for improvement when you use your psi-onics instead of her and Mituna having to maneuver you in and out of the four-wheeled device. They’re so happy when you ask for your husktop that it sours your stomach. You lack the ability to tell them that this isn’t a sign that you’re getting better, in fact, it’s probably an early sign that you’re headed straight for an impressively awful mixed episode. It's too complex a thought for you to express. Just the idea of speaking at length is exhausting. Even if you could, you wouldn’t. Still, you have to admit, things do feel a little different. You feel...clearer.

For once, the universe has mercy on you. Rose messages you almost immediately.

tentacleTherapist [T T] began trolling twinArmageddons [T A].

T T: After a discussion with Dirk and a group chat consisting of The Strilonde Collective and Jade, we have decided that the best course of action will be a large memo with a selection of people we have reason to believe are involved.

T T: I’ve spoken to Karkat about opening a memo for mediation purposes to keep things both civil and neutral. Provided things go well, you’ll find answers to your queries. If shit hits the fan, we can speak privately afterward.

tentacleTherapist [T T] ceased trolling twinArmageddons [T A].

The messages come through one after the other as if she pre-typed them. She doesn’t give you time to respond. There isn’t enough time for you to be grumpy about it though, because a memo invite pops up on your screen two seconds later.

carcinoGeneticist [C G] opened memo DIRK’S INTERVENTION.

carcinoGeneticist [C G] added group [TOO MANY FUCKING PEOPLE] to memo DIRK’S INTERVENTION.

T T: Add Dave.

C G: WHAT? WHY?

T T: Just do it.

C G: NO, THERE’S NO POINT. IT’S NOT LIKE HE CAN ANSWER. IT’S JUST GOING TO SAY HE’S OFFLINE.

T T: I turned his computer on; it'll go through. Just add him.

C G: NO, IT'S STUPID.

T T: Fine.

timaeusTestified [T T] is now admin of memo DIRK’S INTERVENTION.

C G: WHAT? HOW?

timaeusTestified [T T] added turntechGodhead [T G] to memo DIRK’S INTERVENTION.

C G: IF THIS MEMO WASN’T SPECIFICALLY ABOUT YOUR BULLSHIT, I WOULD BAN YOU.

G C: ORDER IN THE COURT.

G C: CARBINEERADICATOR NEPETA SEE TO IT THAT THE ACCUSED DOES NOT FLEE THE JUDICIAL ARENA.

A C: *catbine-eradicator ac crouches ready to pounce the purrpetraitor if he makes any sudden movements*.

G C: DIRK STRIDER YOU ARE ACCUSED OF CONSPIRACY THEORIZING DELUSIONS OF GRANDEUR AND SOCIALLY DISRUPTIVE CONDUCT. 

G C: WILL YOU BE ACCEPTING OF YOUR FATE OR WOULD YOU LIKE TO MAKE AN ATTEMPT AT PROVING YOUR INNOCENCE?

E B: i don’t think that’s how this works.

T T: I will be spitting facts and dropping knowledge, Your Honor.

C F: While I do support role play as a valid method of healthy expression in mediation, I feel that a courtroom setting is much too hostile a scenario to foster an understanding between parties and presents an imbalance in power. There are many other much more practical and beneficial ways we could go about this that I will gladly elaborate on, but first perhaps we should rule out situations that any of us may find traumatic. In fact, a courtroom setting could potentially be a traumatic experience for some here, as could be being referred to as “The Accused”.

carcinoGeneticist [C G] banned considerationallyForewarning [C F] from responding to memo DIRK’S INTERVENTION.

G A: Sweety.

C G: *SIGH*.

carcinoGeneticist [C G] unbanned considerationallyForewarning [C F] from responding to memo DIRK’S INTERVENTION.

C F: Thank you, Kanaya.

gutsyGumshoe: Wait, is this not actually an intervention?

tentacleTherapist: That will be for Terezi to decide.

T T: If she deems that Dirk has no ground for which his claims can stand upon, then this will become his intervention. If however, she decides that his evidence is sufficient to warrant further investigative action, we will proceed accordingly.

C F: I will also be overseeing this mediation process as I am in possession of relevant credentials for such a circumstance. If we continue with this method of role play, I feel we may need several other deescalation exercises due to the aforementioned hostile and intimidating nature of a legislative setting, which could be exacerbated depending on Dirk’s past experiences.

G T: Who is the long-winded fellow?

C F: I’ll thank you not to assume my gender or preferred pronouns. That said, you are by coincidence, correct in your assumption that I use he/him pronouns.

C G: AS YOU CAN SEE, THAT IS MY INSUFFERABLE LITTERMATE KANKRI.

G G: And just who is this Terezi person?

T T: She is a mutual friend of several people here and is also an aspiring lawyer, hence the request for her insight.

G C: THE TOPIC IS NOW OPEN FOR ARGUMENTATION.

G C: *HER TYRANNY YIELDS THE FLOOR WITH A MIGHTY BANG OF HER GAVEL*.

G C: BANG BANG BANG!

G C: THREE MIGHTY BANGS.

G C: WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SUBMIT ON THE SUBJECT OF DIRKS TENUOUS GRIP ON THE TATTERED REMAINS OF HIS SANITY, COUNSELOR ROSE?

T T: Thank you, Your Tyranny. I have several documents for presentation. The first is a link analysis board found in the room of the late Bro Strider.

tentacleTherapist [T T] sent file conspiracyboards dot pdf.

T T: You will find this as supporting evidence for the forthcoming suspicions having existence outside of my client’s head, as will you find this letter written many years ago by his older brother.

tentacleTherapist [T T] sent file bros_letter dot pdf.

A C: *the catbine-eradicator swiftly and seriously collects the impurrtant evidence and pawses to survey the crowd befurr purrsenting it to her tyranny*.

G C: *HER TYRANNY REVIEWS THE EVIDENCE AND APPROVES OF THE COUNSELORS HIGHLIGHTING OF RELEVANT TEXT*.

G C: I FIND THIS EVIDENCE INVALID IN PROVING THAT THE ACCUSED IS NOT INSANE.

T T: Correct, it merely establishes that there was an outside force to stir Dirk’s actions. My next article is a list of various facts that Dirk was able to verify as truth. He presented this list to Roxy, Jade, Jane, Jake, John, and I during a previous memo where a lack of unanimous support caused him to flip his shit.

timaeusTestified: I resent that.

G C: OVERRULED.

tentacleTherapist [T T] sent file verifiedfacts dot doc.

tentacleTherapist: If it pleases Her Tyranny I would like to call an expert witness in Dirk’s behavior to the stand at this time.

G C: it PLEASES.

C F: objection.

G C: ALSO OVERRULED.

T T: Thank you. Roxy, would you please tell us of your findings post Dirk flipping his shit.

T G: yeah ok so.

T G: dirk wass hittin up sum leads bout his birth certifcate cuz the letter says my mom changed it an all the d igital records were sayin bro was his brother.

T G: dirk u wanna upload that.

timaeusTestified [T T] sent file legit_birth_certificate dot jpeg.

G C: HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA.

G C: YOUR NAME IS DIEDERICK.

G T: How come you never told me your legal name was diedrick?

T T: I didn’t know.

G T: Gosh.

T G: f y i he broke into a government building to scann the hardcopy so its legit.

G T: You did ***what***?

G C: *THE ACCUSED RECIEVES INFINITY DEMERITS FOR VIOLATING PROCEDURE*.

T T: I entered the building with valid credentials that were obtained from a security guard in exchange for goods and services.

T G: he seduced the gaurd.

T G: *wonk*.

T T: Like I said, goods and services.

G T: :/

G C: DEMERITS RESCINDED ON THE GROUNDS OF DIRK EXPOSING CORRUPTION AT THE COST OF HIS DIGNITY.

tentacleTherapist: I advise my client to plead the fifth regarding his dignity.

timaeusTestified: The love and support in here is overwhelming, thanks, Rose.

tentacleTherapist: Any time.

timaeusTestified: Anyway, my methods aside, I was also able to locate Bro’s original birth certificate and confirm that he was a ward of the state.

T G: speakin of births.

T G: i was lookin thru brose computer and he found artcals about metteores hitting on all our bdays.

G C: *HER TYRANNY DEMANDS THE WITNESS DISCLOSE THE NAMES OF THE PERSONS SHE REFERS TO AS ALL*.

T G: me rose my mom dirk dave bro jane john and their nana jade jake and their grandfather.

T G: also hella trolls.

T G: dirk got some creds off a nother guy an put em where i could find em so ofc that meant i should tajke a look.

T G: all the tr

T G: all the troll signs bro had on the board an those clippings i was able to findout whose thet were.

T G: like hooolllly shit that took fcking 4ever.

T G: idk all ofthem but the signs were A megido nitram calptor vantass leijon maryam pyrope zahhak makara ampora ppiexis annnnnddd, uh shit i know thers another one

G C: SERKET.

T G: yea how u know?

G C: *HER TYRANNY IS SUSPICIOUS ABOUT THESE NAMES BEING PRESENTED IN A GROUP*.

C G: I ALSO DO NOT LIKE THESE NAMES ALL BEING GROUPED TOGETHER.

C G: THAT WAS OUR FRIEND CIRCLE BEFORE IT WAS SCATTERED TO THE FUCKING WINDS AND NO I WILL NOT ELABORATE ON THAT EXCREMENT EXHIBITION.

E A: I’m going to assume those very specific hypothetical questions you asked me have something to do with this.

T G: yup.

T G: none you guys have a egg cluster number and i thought that was weird but porrim said alternia born trolls dont always reach earth will all that info especially if they were prolly gonna get culledd. 

T G: so i struck out there but you guys also don have any travel info about how u got here except for that u alreaday had lussigh.

E A: It isn’t common for grubs to arrive in pairs with their lussigh anymore.

F T: MY TURN NOW?

G C: *HER TYRANNY CONSIDERS THE REQUEST AND APPROVES IN A VERY DIGNIFIED AND JUDICIAL MANNER*.

F T: I SAW A BUNCH OF THIS ASSHOLES BULLSHIT IN MY VISION.

C G: THERE IS NO SHORTAGE OF ASSHOLES HERE. WHICH ONE?

F T: BRO.

C E:` MITUNA IS BESTOWED UPON GLIMPSES OF EVENTS WHAT IN THE PAST.`

timaeusTestified: Quick question, Sollux, are you here?

T A: yes.

G C: ORDER ORDER.

G C: THE ACCUSED IS NOT TO INTERRUPT THE PROCEEDINGS OR HE WILL BE BANNED FROM SPEAKING.

E B: i still don’t think it works that way.

G C: THE ACCIDENT PRONE WITNESS MAY CONTINUE.

F T: I THOUGHT I SAW DIRK BU TIT WAS BRO ADN HE WAS HOLDING A HOOFBEAST AND A HUMAN WIGGLER AND EVERYTHING WATH BROKE NAND ON FIRE.

F T: ALSO.

F T: THERE WAS ANOTHER WITH HIM AND THOMEONE WHO LOOKED A LOT LIKE ROXY.

F T: THEY WERE LOUD TALKING.

G G: Did you see anything about Betty Crocker or a woman with short black hair?

G C: *HER TYRANNY BANGS HER MIGHTY GAVEL*.

G C: BANG BANG!

G C: AND ONE MORE FOR EMPHASIS.

G C: BANG!

G C: BARONESS CAKE FROSTING YOU ARE LEADING THE WITNESS.

F T: I DID THUOGH.

F T: OYUR COMPANY FUGGING HELMS TROLLS.

G G: **WHAT?**

G G: It most certainly does not.

F T: DOES TWO.

F T: I SAW THE FORNK LOGO ON THE HELM.

E B: maybe they used to?

E B: they made all those different dampeners like the one bro put on sollux.

G G: We did make those dampeners but it was for a good purpose. They all should have gone to prisons and hospitals.

G G: Also, our logo is a spoon, not a fork.

T T: Why would a baking company make electronic devices for prisons and hospitals?

G G: It was part of our troll immigration sponsorship project.

G G: We took on a whole bunch of trolls from Alternia as interns. They lived on-site and had full access to our research and development department. All sorts of technical doohickeys came out of that study program. It paved the way for products like the Unreal Heiress Thoughtwave Tiaratop and Junior Battermaster's Bowlbuster Stirring Solution 5000, as well as our more experimental electronics like the sendificator and appearifier.

T G: hey jane when xactly wass that?

G G: Oh, I’d say sometime around the early ’90's.

T G: and yur company got a fuckton of new tech like poof outta the blue even tho its a baking company,

G G: Just what are you implying?

T G: brose letter did say that mister harley gave my mom all this weird tech to figure out but that betty crocker kept stealing stuf.

C G: CAN WE GET BACK TO WHETHER OR NOT DIRK IS CRAZY? I DON’T HAVE ALL DAY TO WASTE ON HIS OBSCENE AMOUNT OF ISSUES.

G C: *HER TYRANNY AGREES WITH THE LOUD MOUTHED TROLL AND EXPRESSES DISDAINFUL YET AUTHORATIVE INTEREST IN OTHER OPINIONS ON THE VALIDITY OF THE ACCUSED HUMANS THEORY THAT A NEFARIOUS PLOT IS AFOOT*.

tentacleTherapist: Roxy, I think it would be a good time to mention the disks.

T G: i have the diskds from brose letter but they mnust be some weird propreirty format cuz fuck if i knwo what reads em.

tipsyGnostalgic [T G] sent file thedisks dot jpeg.

T G: thafts the box and the disks if anyone has ageuss. 

T G: * a guess.

T A: i have it.

T G: have what babe?

G T: Armageddon 2 sounds like some kind of game. It seems a tad silly to make such a hullabaloo over it.

E B: oh wow!

E B: do you think they made a game for the movie?

C G: THAT’S THE SINGLE DUMBEST THING I’VE EVER HEARD. NOT TO MENTION THERE WOULD HAVE HAD TO HAVE BEEN A FIRST GAME MADE FOR THERE TO BE A SECOND ONE. AND NO ONE WITH EVEN HALF A PAN FULL OF THINK MATTER SO PUSTULANT AND FESTERING THAT IT LEAKED FROM THEIR AURAL DUCTS LIKE THE MOTHERGRUB’S THIRD SPHINCTER WOULD EVER DO THAT.

T A: disk 2 of 2 and reader.

T G: what?!

T G: i asked u befor nafd you said u didnt know >:[ angry face.

T A: after.

T G: after what?

T A: u showed me 1 of 2.

F T: DONT DEAD OPEN INSIDE.

C G: WHAT THE HELL IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?

T C: i’m thinking mituna meant to be typing don’t open dead inside.

T C: or like the meme.

F T: YES.

F T: WAIT NO.

F T: OR YESTH?

F T: THE MEME.

C G: WHAT DOES A MEME HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH THIS GOGFORSAKEN SHIT SHOW MASQUERADING AS SOMETHING VAGUELY RESEMBLING MEDIATION?

F T: ARMAGEDDON 2, 4 13 FIXES DISKS.

F T: DONT DEAD OPEN INSIDE.

T G: holy crap.

T T: Well, fuck me sideways.

T G: imma fuckin idiot.

T T: Armageddon 4 13, two fixes disks.

T T: The roman numeral two being Sollux.

G C: THE EVIDENCE PRESENTED MAKES A FAIR CASE IN FAVOR OF THE ACCUSED HOWEVER IT STILL SMELLS LIKE SOMETHING THAT ANCIENT ALIENS WOULD AIR.

tentacleTherapist: There’s more.

tentacleTherapist [T T] began trolling twinArmageddons [T A].

T T: You should brace yourself for this.

T T: It is the information I was hesitant to disclose last night.

tentacleTherapist [T T] ceased trolling twinArmageddons [T A].

tentacleTherapist [T T] sent file DavesCommentsOnMyTheisis dot doc.

T T: I’ve copied Dave’s comments on my thesis project to a format most of you should be able to open.

C G: I THOUGHT THAT FILE WAS BROKEN? YOU SAID THAT YOU HAD TO GIVE ME A NEW LINK TO READ IT BECAUSE IT THOUGHT DAVE WAS STILL EDITING.

T T: The file recently became available again.

T T: At first I thought it was luck and was overjoyed that I had not been hasty and deleted it. As I read, I soon realized that his comments extended well past the date of his death.

C G: SO THE FILE IS EXTRA SHITTY.

T T: That is a valid assumption to make, however, I do not believe that to be the case. The beta reader application I use puts the most recently updated document at the topmost position. Karkat made an annotation to the document I gave him to read and that placed it above Dave’s. When the document Dave was editing finally thought itself closed, it placed it above Karkat’s. Karkat then made another annotation and again, his document moved to the top.

T T: Last evening, I retired to my room so that I might continue reading through Dave’s comments. When I did so, his document was at the top again.

T T: This was the new entry.

tentacleTherapist [T T] sent file Daves Message to Me dot doc.

C G: ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

G G: To be clear, are you implying that Dave is haunting you?

T T: No, I’m implying that he isn’t entirely dead and there is something much bigger than a company rivalry going on.

T A: u can talk to dave?

C G: LOOK WHAT YOU WENT AND DID!

timaeusTestified: In a sense.

C F: I agree with Karkat, this material is doubtlessly triggering for Sollux and could greatly hinder his progress or potentially even cause him to relapse. I find the lack of a warning to be inconsiderate at best if not wildly negligent.

T T: When we’re asleep or in my case, when I’m in two places simultaneously, we can talk to him. Digitally speaking, however, we aren’t sure how the app is updating. There is some kind of signal jam that won’t let anything out of Derse or Prossspit. Incoming signals go through without a problem, so he can read the memo if we add him now that I have his desktop running, but he can’t reply.

T T: There has to be a condition that the app is periodically meeting that allows it to reestablish an outside connection.

E B: karkat.

E B: what’s in the box?

C G: WHAT?

E B: is the box really under dave’s bed?

tentacleTherapist: I would also be interested in knowing this.

C G: YEAH, I FOUND IT WHEN I WAS CLEANING BUT I DIDN’T OPEN IT. IT LOOKED LIKE A PRESENT.

T A: dave can see this?

C G: WHO HAS SOLLUX RIGHT NOW?

F T: I DO.

G C: ORDER ORDER ORDER!

G C: CREAMSICLE TEXT. 

G C: APPROACH THE BENCH.

T T: I’m guessing that’s me.

G C: WHERE IS THE OTHER AMBASSADOR OF YOUR CLAIMED DREAMSCAPE?

G T: She was awake when the memo opened. Perhaps she nodded off again.

tentacleTherapist: Jake, I know your thoughts on it, but as a personal favor to me, could you try to wake her up?

timaeusTestified: I got it. Be right back.

G T: Pardon?

G G: sorry i fell asleep.

G G: wow you guys have been busy!

G G: give me a minute to catch up :) .

tentacleTherapist [T T] began trolling twinArmageddons [T A].

T T: How are you doing?

T A: i saw dave.

T T: Kurloz told us that was happening to you. Are you still seeing him?

T A: yes.

T A: but i mean my vision.

T A: dave said.

T A: i would see him again.

T T: It is becoming clearer to me as to why you responded as you did. I wish I knew how to wake up your dream-self. Dirk tells me that Dave threw a ball of yarn at my head. I can't quite recall it myself but it feels believable.

T T: You should mention this to Dirk. He's the only one of us that can truly bridge the gap between our conscious and unconscious selves. I will remember our conversation when I go to sleep, but it is unlikely that I will remember enough of Derse to tell you anything worthwhile once I awaken.

twinArmageddons [T A] ceased trolling tentacleTherapist [T T].

timaeusTestified [T T] began trolling twinArmageddons [T A].

T T: I don't know what my aunt saw that made her think it's you who fixes the disks, but will you do it?

T A: i do it.

T A: i saw it.

T A: i saw dave too.

T T: What exactly did you see?

T A: he said two ask rose and.

T A: that i would see him again.

T T: That was the gist of it. He wasn't sure if you got anything at all so he'll be glad to know that.

T A: was rly him?

T T: Mmhmm, it's difficult to explain but in essence, he saw you having a vision, tried to make it less awful, and then tried to tell you something on the off chance you'd hear it.

T T: Can I tell him that he doesn't have to worry about you offing yourself?

T A: rose told u?

T T: Told me what?

T A: nvm.

T A: yes.

T T: Good.

T T: That wouldn't have worked you know. The only reason Dave's dream-self didn't die too is because you kissed him.

T A: rly?

T T: Yeah, you saved his ass big time so whatever guilt you're doubtlessly harboring over that, you can let it go. Whatever mistake you think you made, you canceled it out with that.

T T: You should get back to the memo before all hell breaks loose.

T A: wait.

T A: does he talk two me.

T T: Constantly.

T A: i hear him sometimes.

T T: No shit? I guess you really are half awake.

timaeusTestified [T T] ceased trolling twinArmageddons [T A].

C G: I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU MAGGOT SPONGED TAINT LICKERS THOUGHT THIS WAS A GOOD IDEA. HE WAS JUST STARTING TO GET BETTER. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS IS GOING TO DO TO HIM?

gardenGnostic: it all fits together though doesnt it?

G G: why else would jake go back to the states if there wasnt something important he was supposed to be there for?

G T: Again im not terribly comfortable with that idea nor do i recall us conversing about it.

G G: im pretty sure you do though.

G G: roxy needs your help with something.

timaeusTestified: Sollux said he'll fix the disks, or rather, he said he knows that he fixes the disks because he saw it in his vision.

G G: he does!

G G: bec never liked me or jake going near the big ruins on the island but jake was able to explore a bunch of the smaller ones.

G G: i think its why he loves rocks so much lol.

T A: cold wet stone.

G G: but i might be able to distract bec.

G G: what about cold wet stone?

T A: i d k.

C F: Sollux, if this is triggering you, please let us know in whatever manner you are able. This chat has not been particularly considerate of you despite my attempts to make this a safe environment and I would hate to see you suffer the effects of that.

F T: OOOH YOU SAID THE H WORD.

G C: *HER TYRANNY FACE PALMS IN A REALLY DIGNIFIED AND ATHORITATIVE MANNER*.

G C: I LEAVE FOR ONE MINUTE TO PEE AND YOU ALL TURN INTO SQUABBLING CLUCKBEASTS. 

G C: AMBASSADOR JADE TELL THE COURT IN YOUR OWN WORDS WHAT THIS DREAMLAND OF YOURS LOOKS LIKE.

G C: INTERRUPTERS OF THE AMBASSADOR WILL BE HELD IN CONTEMPT BY THE CARBINEERADICATOR AND PUNISHED TO THE FULLEST EXTENT OF THE LAW.

A C: *the catbine-eradicator wiggles her rear in anticipawtion of appurrhending interrupters*.

G G: hmm its hard to say.

G G: i feel like i used to remember more of this sort of thing.

G G: theres a golden city with all these fancy buildings and towers everywhere.

G G: and lots and lots of clouds.

G C: HONEY TOWERS AND COTTON CANDY SKYS.

G C: INTRIGUING.

G T: Uh Dirk?

G T: Remember how the parts to Jades dreambot plum up and vanished one day for no rhyme or reason?

T T: I recall.

G C: CARBINEERADICATOR APPREHEND THE AGISPECTATOR.

G T: Wait wait.

G T: Um your honor this is...what i mean to say is i would like to present surprise evidence?

A C: *ac awaits the command of her tyranny while starring with fierce intimidation at the agispectator*.

G C: *HER TYRANNY CONSIDERS THE PATHETIC PLEAS OF THE ACCUSEDS EX LOVER*.

G T: Crimety, whatever happened to no punching below the belt?

G C: I WILL ALLOW IT OUT OF CURIOSITY AND BECAUSE IT WILL ENTERTAIN ME SHOULD YOU MAKE A FOOL OF YOURSELF.

G T: Okay not to flap my gums in excess but jade has this dreambot that our grandpa made her to help with her sleepwalking and narcolepsy. Only it stopped working without a lick of reason. We popped it open and a whole mess of gadgetry was plain old missing.

G T: Well...

G T: I think i may have found it.

T T: I am on the edge of my seat to find out where in the goddamn those parts ran off to. My coccyx is clinging to the edge like a grappling hook.

G T: Its more like it found me and even more like i nearly shat my knickers dodging it. Roxy where you fiddling with the appearifier just now?

T G: nope.

tentacleTherapist: Your honor, in light of this new evidence, I would like to request a recess.

timaeusTestified: I second this proposal. If we can fix Jade’s dreambot then we could easily prove all this shit. It can record Jade’s dreams.

G C: PROPOSITION DENIED.

G C: I HAVE REACHED MY FINAL VERDICT.

G C: *HER TYRANNY BARES A GRIN DISPLAYING HER MANY SHARP TEETH AS SHE LAVISHES IN THE SMELL OF FEAR AND ANTICIPATION*.

G C: IN A SHOCKING UPSET I RULE IN FAVOR OF THE ACCUSED.

G C: SUFFICIENT EVIDENCE HAS BEEN PRESENTED TO WARRANT LAUNCHING A THOROUGH INVESTIGATION.

G C: I WILL NOW BEGIN SENTENCING PEOPLE TO WORK IN SMALL GROUPS.

C G: WHY DO YOU GET TO PICK WHO DOES WHAT?

flipTuna [F T] has ceased responding to memo DIRK'S INTERVENTION.

Mituna takes away your husktop but your fingers are still poised to type as they too slowly lower to your lap. You overdid it. That memo was too much and you tried to do too much and now you feel like the world around you is too fast.

You're in Mituna's room sitting in one of the splay sacs. You can see where he put your husktop on his dresser but you aren't sure where he went. There are tremors running through you. In a blink, Mituna is back and trying to push a bottled water into your hands. Your fingers feel stiff like when you've been coding for too long without a break but you manage to grip it. You're already trying to bring it up to your mouth when he nudges you to do so. It has you thinking that either he's going too fast or you're going slower than you thought. Maybe both. You get in a few sips before you shake your head and push it toward him so he can set it aside. He has a lot of trouble getting the cap back on. You wait until he finally succeeds before getting his attention.

"Tu-tuna." He jumps, quickly going from surprise, back to worry, then to a hesitant relief.

"You stopped." He probably means you became unresponsive since you weren't moving much to begin with. Thinking back, the world did sort of fall away, even more so toward the end. There was something about what Jade said that made you recall that fragment of your vision. It was right before Dave spoke to you. It might have even been what was happening around him. Hands on your shoulders shake you back into reality. You take a deep breath and blink away the thoughts you were quickly becoming reabsorbed in.

"Tired." It doesn't come out quite right but Mituna understands anyway. He understands the subtext too. You aren't just tired physically, you're mentally wrung out too, and experiencing the emotional equivalent of nuclear fallout. Mituna nods in an idle way that broadcasts his indecision about what to do with you.

"Coon?" he asks. You nod and he pulls your arm over his shoulders while slipping his arm behind your back. He gets you to your feet but quickly realizes that even if walking happened that one time, at the moment, you're in no shape to attempt it again. Instead, he scoops you up and carries you the embarrassingly few steps it takes to get to the recuperacoon. Sopor seeps into your clothes because he doesn't think to help you out of them before dumping you into the red side of his coon, but you don't particularly care. It is the lowest thing on your list of concerns right now. After struggling with the zipper of his pullover, Mituna climbs into the blue side. You hear the flick of a lighter and a moment later there is a familiar scent in the air. He's going to stink up the hive doing that but Kurloz will take care of it later. It wafts your way and a desperate part of you inhales deeply, trying to get some of the second hand. It won't hurt just to get a taste of it and with the sopor starting to take effect you can pretend that it's like it used to be even if it’s nowhere near that. When he leans over the divider, It sends smoke your way that he quickly waves away.

"Do you think it's true?" You open your eyes and stare up at him. It's a good question. Do you believe or do you only _want_ to believe? When you take too long to answer, he continues. "I think...I think I saw…" he stops and you can see how hard he's trying to articulate whatever it is he’s thinking. "A place that isn't like here. Kurloz would like it." You don't know what he means by that. "Purple and spooky." He smiles and takes another hit but this time remembers to exhale away from you.

For a while, you lie there in the disarray of your thoughts. You don't know what to think. You don't know what to feel. You don't know what to do and you don't want to have to deal with any of this. It's all so heavy. Thankfully the waves of sleep eventually drag you under, drowning out the pain of lucidity and setting your mind adrift in a sea of disjointed thoughts and sensations. This is where Dave is. This is where you can best feel his presence and almost hear his voice. You want to believe it's really him, your heart aches with how badly you want to believe that Dave is in this other place waiting for you, and yet you're terrified of fully giving yourself to that belief because there's no going back if you do.

#  ==> Be Dave.

You’re sitting on the edge of Sollux’s bed coming down from being wound tight with worry for the past few hours. Dirk messaged you a little while ago to let you know Sollux was going to be okay. You felt like shit for doing that to him, you still feel like shit for putting him through that. It wasn’t what you meant to do. It wasn’t the kind of hope you wanted to give him. At least he didn’t get worse. Dirk described it like a bucket of cold water to his system. It isn’t ideal but then again, none of this is. God, you wish you knew what the fuck was going on.

“Hi Dave!” You pick up your head to see Jade landing effortlessly on the ledge of Sollux’s window. There’s a grin on her face and light in her eyes as she takes a seat there.

“Sup?” you ask with a tilt of your chin.

“I can _FINALLY_ tell you more things," She says, with wide eyes, holding onto the ledge so she can lean forward for emphasis. You are so done with secrets but it’s hard to be mad at Jade especially since it looks like she’s bursting at the seams to tell you, meaning there was a reason not to.

“Ya know, I had a feeling you might’ve had a few more secrets you weren’t tellin me.” You had no idea and Jade easily calls your bluff.

"Dave, you're a terrible liar," she says, looking at you over the rim of her glasses.

"What? No way. I am deeply wounded by that statement." She rolls her eyes but she's smiling as she does it.

“Anyway, It’s been super difficult not to say anything but it would have messed up everything if Dirk found out too soon. I know you wouldn’t have told him on purpose but, well, he would have gotten it out of you for sure.” You put a hand to your chest and open your mouth in mock offense. It’s totally true though. “And Hal was a real jerk about not saying anything to either of you.” She wrinkles up her nose in annoyance but Jade’s pouting is only momentary.

“Hal knows?” You wonder if that’s partly why he’s been keeping to himself so much.

“Yep, Dirk didn’t believe this place was real last time he was awake, and then he was so focused on building Hal that he didn’t get the chance to really explore much of anything. Hal’s been all over the place though since he woke up.”

“Oh man, Dirk is going to high key hate that," you remark.

“I know, that’s how I got him to keep his mouth shut,” Jade says with a laugh.

“So what’s the big secret?” you say it casually like you aren’t dying to know.

“So right before my dreambot stopped working--”

“Whoa whoa whoa, hold up, shorty. I thought you didn’t know about that hunk of junk when you were off in dreamland?”

“Well…” she purses her mouth into a thin line and looks off to the side. “I didn’t always know. Someone told me about it while I was asleep. They also told me that I had to play dumb about the game until my dreambot could be fixed or a whole bunch of stuff wouldn’t happen that needs to because it already did, but also some stuff that hasn’t happened yet wouldn’t be able to happen if the other stuff didn’t first.”

“They were safeguarding a paradox.” You surprise yourself with how well you understood that but manage to keep a straight face.

“Exactly! That’s one of the reasons I was so sad on earth. I knew there was something important that we were all supposed to do together and that I didn’t remember it but I was going to later. I even have a special reminder for it. So when you died, I thought everything got messed up, which would have been really really bad for a lot of us. I wasn’t sure for a while, but I have a good feeling that things are still on track now.”

"On track for-- " you stop mid-sentence and squint for some reason even though you're trying to hear better. Jade starts to speak again but you hold up your hand and press a finger to your lips. "Whoever that is, y'all better make yourself known. I can and will cut a bitch." You strain to hear and after a long beat of silence, there's a cackle from behind Jade that has her jumping up and spinning around. A troll girl floats up from where she was hiding just below the window, her left hand lightly trailing up the trim as she rises. She turns her head in Jade's direction before fine-tuning her gaze to you and inhaling deeply.

"Your eyes smell delicious."

"That's not a weird thing to say at all, nope, totally something normal people without bodies in their basement say," you say. The troll in front of you snorts and drops a white cane with a red dragon head handle from her sylladex, then makes her way further into the room.

"You're Terezi right?" Jade asks. The troll you presume to be Terezi smiles, revealing a mouth full of fangs, and leans on her cane with both hands.

"Does my reputation precede me?"

"I don't know about that," Jade says. "but I just wanted to say it was really cool how you got everyone to stop fighting and take the game seriously. Also, it's nice to finally meet you!" Jade sticks out her hand before she can consider how that might be difficult for Terezi to see on account of how it would appear that Terezi cannot. She pulls it back and fiddles with a few of the color-coded jelly rings on her fingers.

“I’m guessing you knew she was going to wake up too, huh?” you ask. The tally of secrets just keeps rising.

“Yup, although I thought it would have been sooner, a lot sooner, before you woke up actually.”

“I’ve been awake for years,” Terezi says matter of factly.

“What?! How come I never saw you?” Vision is not a requirement to ascertain the level of pure scandalization Jade is experiencing.

“I kept mostly to the tower. It was comfortable.” She says it nonchalantly with a shrug, like it’s no biggie, like she simply couldn’t be bothered to get out of bed. There is something else under that shrug though. You don’t know her well enough to figure it out but you know she isn’t telling the truth. This subtle observation goes over Jade’s head. “Also,” Terezi continues. “This doesn’t work too well when there’s nothing to hit.” She waves her cane broadly in the air and somehow manages to avoid the disaster of clutter on Sollux’s desk when the cane passes over it.

“Hey so,” you interject before the moment has a chance to get awkward. “Jade, you were saying something before about this massive secret you’ve been keeping from me because Dirk can reed my ass like it’s titled ‘bitch, we gonna learn shapes’, which is to say, easily.”

“Dave, you don’t give yourself enough credit. Your ass is at least level two on the scholastic scale.” You look over your shoulder to see Rose framed within the tower’s other window and leaning in an artful contrapposto that lines up perfectly with the arched frame. She’s so dramatic. You’re on the precipice of delivering a self-deprecating come-back when Kanaya drifts into view. She looks almost as surprised to see you as you are to see her, but it’s Jade that reacts first.

“Kanaya!” she elate's while zipping over to wrap the jade blood in a quick hug. There is a strange amount of familiarity between them. Did they know each other better than you thought? “I was so excited when I saw you awake again in the clouds.”

“She was awake before?” You see Sollux’s mouth twist into a frown before he rolls over to curl up on his side facing away from everyone. With so many people here it feels weird to do more than rub his arm reassuringly.

“I was awake for a short while many years ago. I have some theories on what or _who_ might have put me back to sleep, but those speculations are for another time.” You hear a low quiet noise from your other side and catch the asymmetric scrunch of Terezi's face, her lip curled in disgust before it's wiped away to something more neutral.

With Sollux’s room having quickly gotten crowded, you all decide to take this reunion tour to Starbucks Gold Edition. Hal and Dirk meet you there and for the first time in a while, you're feeling good about things. There are seven of you awake and Jade is about to give everyone the low down on what's happening. Things are moving. You’re doing it. You’re making it happen.

As predicted, Dirk isn't super thrilled about being left in the dark, but he's reasonable about it and hears Jade out on what she has to say. Oh man, does she have some things to say. It's some fate of the universe shit and if everything you know already wasn't pointing in the same direction (paradox protection included), you might not believe it. What it boils down to is that somehow you all have to get a fuck ton of people to play a game together at the same time or the apocalypse is going to hand everyone their ass on a silver platter. Honestly, with everything that’s happened so far, coordinating that many people might be the hardest part to believe. You're sure glad that isn't your problem.

As they're all discussing it, though, you slowly realize that there isn't a whole lot that even _can_ be your problem. You're going stir crazy and from what you gather, you still have another month to go. Everyone is talking about how that's so short notice and your more tech-savvy friends have concerns about there being enough time to fix whatever is wrong with the disks, but for you, it doesn't feel quick enough. When the first of them wakes up and vanishes with a 'pop', the rest solidify what they need to do even though, chances are, they won't remember. One by one the group gets smaller until it's only you and Hal.

"You were very quiet for the latter half of that conversation," he says as you make your way down to the chamber housing the transportalizer.

"It wasn't like there was much for me to say. They had it covered." You step on the circle and a second later the walls are purple instead of gold.

"You never mentioned what your plans were." Hal’s voice echoes in the high ceilinged hallway.

"Yeah, well, what can I really do when I'm stuck here?" There are only so many things you can busy yourself with. You're pretty sure you've found all the murals at this point, which apparently really are game tips.

"As much as I've been able to discern myself, it might be nice to compare notes." You aren't sure what Hal means by that and shoot him a sideways look. "It may very well be busy work, but if you need something to do, we could go through your slides again. With this new information, perhaps you'll spot something I've missed." You feel like he's patronizing you but it's better than staring at the walls.

"Alright, yeah, we can get right on that in a bit. If everyone is awake, I should probably get some sleep." Hal only makes a hum of agreement as you fly off to your tower. Try as you might, sleep doesn’t come. In the end, you wind up surfing the web for a few hours wondering if it was always this boring.

#  ==> Be Sollux

You’re lying on the sofa in Dirk’s living room after having spent a good chunk of the afternoon trying to get that damn zip disk drive working. Not only is the hardware proprietary and the drivers wildly outdated, but the thing has a fucking parallel port connection. Having to adapt the cable wasn’t helping. Luckily, before you could get too annoyed with it, Roxy thought to see if Bro’s shitty laptop was old enough to have a parallel port. You took a power nap while she ran back to campus for it. The futon isn’t the picture of comfort but you were still out like a light.

You wake up to her shaking your shoulder and saying your name. She has Bro's brick of a laptop under her arm and a mischievous smirk on her face. You make a noise of recognition as the world comes into as much focus as it can without your glasses.

"You wanna stick it in?" she asks with a waggle of her eyebrows while suggestively holding the clunky machine nearly at crotch level. Your sleep-addled brain thinks 'you know where it is' and you instantly feel awful for daring to make a joke. Roxy would like it though. Even right now, when she's blatantly trying to antagonize you, you can sense the stress weighing her down. She's giving you ample time to react. It's the least you could do as the world's shittiest kismesis. You take a deep breath in preparation for a full sentence, however, your squawk box still isn't as cooperative as it could be and it comes out as:

"Yknow'werett iths." She smiles. She's tired and frustrated and just trekked all the way to campus and back, but she's smiling because you said something non-boolean and moderately coherent. The bar really is low these days.

"Come on, babe. You know you wanna." She thwaps you gently with the massive parallel cable and you sigh like it's a huge inconvenience. Well, it actually isn't the easiest thing for you to do; you're still acclimating to this whole movement being taxed at a premium thing. It would be easier to use your psi-onics but you risk shocking the board that way so you wrap your fingers around the plug and lift your unreasonably heavy arm. You get it in the right spot and it's even facing the right side up, but it's doubtful that the plug went all the way in and the standoff screws are giving you trouble. "Having some technical difficulties?" You pause and look up at her pointedly before continuing. Just when you think you've got it, the plug slips between your fingers, and you're right back where you started. With a huff you let your arm drop and your head fall back on the armrest. Fuck this. She can do this part. You close your eyes. "If you can get it all the way in, I'll use your bracket style," she says with a tempting lilt.

Oh? You open your red eye, staring at Roxy for a long moment before slowly turning onto your side and pushing yourself to sit up. She hands you the cable again and you power through the task while being taunted with such gems as: "Jam it in good and deep", "Keep twisting just like that", and "Damn that is a big cable". Even if you shoot her a glare for each comment, there is a certain relief in the crude humor she's making an attempt at. When you're finally done, she doesn't praise you or tell you how proud she is, or any other delicate platitudes. No, what Roxy does is sit down next to you, on your right side, the side with the armrest that you were using as a pillow, and then tell you to scoot over instead of sitting literally anywhere else there was space. You scoot but only so you can more comfortably resume your resting behind her.

Roxy takes over from there. She handles the rest of the setup and starts copying over the data from the 50 some-odd disks while you take a breather. Even the simplest things are still draining but you keep moving forward. You have to. Bro was right. Whether you wanted to or not, you’d do it. Dave needs you.

Karkat is still skeptical about this whole thing, as are several people, but he’s going along with it since it has you up and moving more. The possibility that this is a lie still lingers in the back of your mind. It triggers a wave of intrusive thoughts that pull you back down every time you manage to get going. Perhaps it’ll get easier once Jade finishes putting that robot back together. Jake agreed to come back but only after she got it working. It’s taking a bit more elbow grease than simply popping the parts back in. A few things need to be rewired and one of the parts took some damage when it hit the floor. You hear she’s making quick work of it though. If she can tolerate Equius for more than five minutes they could probably have some interesting conversations about robotics if it’s true that this game is going to bring everyone together. You aren’t sure how you know that. Maybe Jade mentioned it at some point.

Roxy finishes copying over the data, including your 2 of 2 disk, and pops it onto a flash grub so you can both look at it on your own machines the following afternoon. She gets a head start since she doesn’t have to go to outpatient like you do. At first, you’re a little miffed about her getting to it before you, but it does make sense not to do double work and evidently, it saved you some headache. You’re meeting her on campus so she can give you the low-down on it. You haven't been back here in a while and it has you on edge enough that it startles you when Latula's car comes to a stop in front of the dorm.

“It was complete bullshit. Just wait till you see it,” Roxy says as she opens your door and starts helping you maneuver out of the vehicle, but not into a chair. Your doctors want you to start doing actual walking now in addition to the physical therapy they’ve been submitting you to (preferable over talk therapy but still annoying) in order to avoid muscle atrophy. You recall that being a real pain in the ass last time, so begrudgingly, you’re following orders when you feel up to it. They gave you arm secured stick based mobility aids to ease the strain of walking despite your attempts to convey that you could do the same shit with your psi-onics.

“Yo, Sollux. You forgot these.” You turn to see Latula leaning over the passenger seat holding out said arm secured stick-based mobility aids.

“Thanks, I’ll make sure he uses the crutches.” Roxy pushes them at you with a stern look that has you rolling your eyes in response. You do it though. You use the stupid arm crutches to walk the short distance to her dorm at a slimebeast pace while she continues to complain at you about her findings. Half the disks are corrupted having been in storage for nearly 20 years and the ones that aren’t are a mess of errors. Additionally, Roxy doesn’t think it’s even complete regardless of the disks’ viability. “It’s like someone just slapped it together without actually knowing how ahth works,” she gripes as she opens her door for you.

“Paw-lux!” You’re barely two shaky steps into the room before Nepeta has you in a crushing hug. “Mew look so much better than the last time I saw you and it’s only been a few days.”

Everyone is so hung up on your recovery speed run. It almost makes you want to tell them that this isn’t so much a recovery as it is a last effort and that you have been grappling with a looming sense that your death certificate is already signed regardless of your success, but that you don’t really care because it’s just a means to an end. You don’t want to get better. You want to see Dave again. If that means you have to force your meat suit to perform tasks, you’ll burn yourself out if you have to. But Nepeta is sweet and hurting her feelings would just make you feel worse, so you nod your head. Deciding that you’ve fulfilled your quota of “trying”, you ditch the arm secured stick based mobility aids and hover in what you’ve been told is an ominous and rather ghostly manner while Roxy pulls up the completely uncompressed code that was on the disks in pure plain text. You try to pay attention, you really do, but you can feel the ghost of Dave’s touch, his fingers slipping between yours and his thumb brushing gently over your skin. It’s easy to get lost in.

“Are you listening?” Roxy asks. You snap back into focus and make eye contact to show that, yes, you are now fully present again. “I said, Karkat opened the box that was under Dave’s bed.” Your chest squeezes tight but you keep it together. “If you think you can handle it, you can come with.” On one hand, you aren’t sure that you have the energy for this. On the other, if you don’t go, then everyone except you is going to know and it’ll be some big dumb stupid secret they all tiptoe around. Like everything lately, you don’t really have a choice. 

Kk is waiting for you outside of his and Dave's room. Kanaya is there with him which is a surprise; you didn't know she was up here. Is it a weekend? There's a soft smile on her face when she sees you hobbling over. Roxy is making you walk again, much to your aggravation.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Karkat asks. He looks nervous and now that you're closer you can see how red and puffy his eyes are. He's been crying. It has you second-guessing yourself but you wave away the thought. You don't have time to entertain it. Besides, after everything you've been through, seeing Dave's room again can't be any worse.

wrong. so wrong.

You cross over the threshold and your sniffnode is practically assaulted by lingering remnants of his scent. Your eyes dart around the room jumping from memory to memory. It feels like all the air has been sucked out of your breath sacks. You barely register Kanaya's voice when she gently tilts your chin to look at her and says your name.

"Do forgive us for reading the letter." You glance down to see her holding a hardcover book and a piece of paper that's creased in two places. No, that's not a book. That's a manual. You'd know it anywhere. You're frozen to the spot but still determined not to let on exactly how much you're currently freaking out, so you pick up the paper with your psi-onics.

> hey honeybee,
> 
> i hope youre doing alright by the time this gets to you. do you remember those ruins i dragged you to way back when? we were so close to figuring them out but it wasn't time yet and we didnt have all the pieces.
> 
> i had a dream the other night though that was very exciting! before i put our expedition on hold you said that youd need another set of glyphs to make sense of the ones i found, and speculated that there might be another set of ruins. it turns out that you were right! i don’t know where these other ruins are but someone does and the ghosts told me that youll be the one to find her.
> 
> i rewrote all our notes in the back of my flarp manual for safekeeping. i know the glyphs didnt sit well with you but its important so dont let your closet eat it.
> 
> <3  
>  aradia.

Everything blurs into color and movement, and when the world comes into focus again, you're in your dorm room on the floor with your back to the door. Unfortunately, this room isn't much better. Every square inch of the room reminds you of Dave. Your mind spins with jumbled thoughts of your dead quadrantmates. The air feels thin. You're starting to hyperventilate. You don't know what to do. You can't move. Someone is pounding on the door behind you and shouting. It's too much. It's too much around you and too much in your head. You slink down further to lie on the floor.

Things start to fall away around you. Dave's here. He looks... tired? No, he’s sad, but right now he’s worried about you and trying to hide it. His hand cups your face but you can't feel his touch. He's talking to you but you can't hear his voice. It's only ever one when you're awake. You close your eyes and his voice slowly starts coming through, a calming cadence even if you can't quite make out the words. His presence wraps around you like an embrace, soothing your think sponge and easing you down from your panic into a murky sleep.

You open your eyes sometime later. At some point, it looks like past-you did future-you a kindness and moved to the bottom bunk. Between that and dreaming of your moirail (which maybe wasn’t a dream?), you feel decently rested. There are still some very heavy thoughts buzzing in your mind but you aren’t emotionally at critical mass anymore. It isn’t exactly bearable though. You need to get away. You need to stop thinking so much just for a little while. You need to be somewhere else with someone who isn’t going to coddle you, but there's no way you didn't scare off Roxy again with all your bullshit. There’s really only one person you can think of that fits those parameters. You glance at the clock. You were out for a good couple hours, enough that he should be back from work by now. Slowly you push yourself up. No one is around so you don’t bother with the crutches and simply float over to the window.

“The huntress watches her prey, curiously wondering what its next move may be.” The voice surprises you so much that little sparks of psi crackle in the air around you as you turn to the source of the sound. Nepeta is sitting cross-legged on the edge of your bed. You aren’t thrilled about that; you don’t like people in your bed. At least she’s sitting on the end of it. That isn’t as bad.

[How?] you sign, looking from her to the door and back again.

“The ablution block wasn’t locked. It was very catsiderate of your neighbors to let me in. We were all worried about mew.”

[Sorry.] You’re a real asshole making everyone worry all the time. You were about to do it again too. Before Nepeta caught you, you had absolutely no intention of telling anyone where you were headed. [I’m going to see Gamzee.] Well, you were at least. Nepeta is probably going to alert the others and that’ll be the end of that.

“Okie dokie.” You give her an incredulous look that makes her giggle. “It’s not like you’re not allowed to. Karkitty will purrobably be a sourpuss about it though.” She puts her hand to her mouth in thought for a moment before her expression lights up again. “We just won’t tell him yet unless he asks.” You could almost smile at that. You don’t, but there is something there, a small twitch in the corner of your mouth.

[Thanks.] She gives you a wave before you slink out through the window and into the evening sky. You’re halfway to Gamzee’s apartment when you realize that it’s the first time in a long time that you’ve truly flown. It’s bittersweet, more bitter than sweet as the memories lurk on the edges of your mind. You fly faster.

#  ==> Sollux: Chill with Gamzee

You land on the stoop of Gamzee’s apartment. Well, you don’t really land so much as float close to the floor. For a minute or two, you stand there, stuck in the moment before you make anything happen. It’s pathetic. Ironically the wave of self-loathing is what allows you to break out of it. After all, that’s why you’re here, to take your mind off of everything for a while. You ring the topmost bell of the three-family house and it isn’t long before the door creaks open on it’s poorly maintained hinges. Gamzee looks surprised to see you and then confused that it's only you here, however, he doesn't dwell on it for long and the relaxed grin he frequently wears returns to his face.

"It just you, bee-man?” he asks even though that’s pretty clear. You nod and he steps aside to let you through. “Good seeing them miracles what comin fruition, getting your autonomy on again after all that nasty business.” You follow him up the stairs and into his living room where he ushers you to take a seat on the charmingly shitty but comfortable sofa before disappearing into the kitchen. You’re running through lines in your head, trying to figure out how you’re going to say what you need to when he wanders back with a glass of water for you and a half-full bottle of faygo for himself. “What got you wandering in my direction?” he asks, dropping down to sit next to you with enough space in between to be polite but not enough for someone else to sit. You’re silent. Is there really a way to ease into ‘please distract me from my own personal hell in whatever way you can’? Not to mention that you haven’t said so many words collectively in weeks and the sheer idea of turning such a lengthy statement into sound has your jaw wiring shut. You look up at him and then back down at the dingy carpet. A hand claps against your back and runs up to linger on your shoulder in a gesture of comfort. “It’s all good my invertibrother. You ain’t gotta vocalize on demand none for me. We can get our chill on till you feelin the spirit of communicating verbal or in the sense what physically dexterous.” Gamzee smiles and flicks on the tv while you feel like an idiot for getting so worked up that you forgot about having other means of communication at your disposal. You shift to better face him and it catches his attention.

[Don't want to think.] You don't remember the sign for 'distraction' but it's close enough. Your gaze falls to the side and your eyes catch sight of the cabinet beneath the coffee table where the Makaras keep their weed. It wasn’t your original intent for coming here, but the faint smell of cannabis and dryer sheets that lingers in the room have you thinking of it. You wonder if it would make you an entire sack of bulges to ask.

“It’s all good, man. Got that digital miracle what is media streaming unless you needing something on a interactivity level.”

“Netflix.” One word answers you can do, that’s manageable, you can get your stupid sponge to cooperate with your squawk box long enough to get those out now without much strain it would seem. Gamzee smiles again and it makes you feel guilty. They all think you’re getting better and-- no, no you have to stop thinking about that, you have to stop thinking about everything. Just relax, lean back, and watch tv with Gamzee for a while. You can continue being a fucking wreck later.

Your self pep talk goes alright for a little while but not nearly long enough. You keep fading in and out of your thoughts. Whatever drivel you’re watching stops making sense because you aren’t paying enough attention. Gamzee makes some commentary here and there, leaving room for you to add something to the conversation if you wanted to. Gog, you’re being so awkward. You’re just dragging him down. Why did you think coming here was a good idea?

“You good, Solbro?” You pick your head up at the sound of his voice. The tv is paused. When did that happen? "It seeming like you in need of something but I ain't on knowing what." His hand comes up to your shoulder again. The contact is... nice. The past month has been non-stop invasive violations of your personal space but this isn't one of those. You don’t mind this. You might even want it. It hurts to want anything. Indecision keeps you from responding to Gamzee's question with more than another simple nod. He takes a long look at you before getting up and making his way over to the modest shrine in the far corner of the room. The small table is covered by a deep purple cloth that Gamzee lifts enough to pull a box out from under. He removes something from it before putting it away and coming back over to sit beside you. Maybe it’s your imagination but you think he might be slightly closer than before. “I made one of these in your possession when you was a mess of wires an' shit but them docterrorists probably ain’t see the significance and tossed it.” There’s a tinge of sadness on his face as he recalls the memory. When he turns to look at you he wipes it away, replacing it with a small smile, and gently takes one of your hands to slip a bracelet made of plastic beads and elastic thread around your wrist. It’s alternating red and blue with every fifth bead being yellow. It’s exactly like the one he gave you before that he’s correctly guessed was taken away. You tug at the band like you’re going to pull it off your wrist but stop halfway, letting it loop over your fingers where you toy with the beads. You did the same thing with the last one albeit with a lot less coordination. It’s doubtful anyone noticed. If they had, they probably wouldn’t have misplaced it.

“Thanks.” The beads make a distinct plastic clack as you slip the bracelet back onto your wrist. You look up at him. He wants to help but he doesn’t know what to do so he’s given you this object that would bring him some sense of comfort. Do you even know what you need? Your eyes fall to the cabinet under the coffee table again then pan back up to Gamzee. “Can...can you..." there’s probably a better way to ask this, but it eludes you.

“What you needing, Starshine?” he asks when you pause too long. This is such a dick move. He's probably going to think you're the lowest piece of shit for asking, but you're desperate to escape everything even just for a little while.

[Smoke me up?]You sign. Gamzee bites the inside of his lip, visibly contemplating your request. The air is thick and the room is silent save for the distant ticking of the kitchen clock. A sympathetic yet contested look in his eyes says that he wants to. If he can make you happy, if he can alleviate your sorrow, he wants to, but he isn’t sure that he should. He tilts his head and glances to the side, weighing the decision one more time.

“The meds what fucked you up that time, you ain’t been on those no more, right?” he asks.

You shake your head. “thah-something else.” You’re supposed to be on them again soon. It helps you concentrate so it’s pretty important, but you are tempted to see if you can hack it without them.

“What you on now?”

Oh fuck if you remember. It’s some kind of anti-anxiety business that’s supposed to help you loosen up too. You shrug and drop the bottle out of your sylladex, then hold it out for Gamzee to take. Your fingers brush as he does.

“When was you last popping one of these?” Does it interact too or is he just erring on the side of caution? For that matter, how does he know? You wonder if he looked into that kind of thing after what happened.

“Morning.” Your fingers brush again when he hands you back the bottle.

“We taking grub shuffles. I ain’t even on letting you hit it yourself.” There’s a tinge of a laugh that pulls at the corners of his mouth. “I seen you fucking rip that shit before.” Holy shit, he’s actually going to let you do it. It doesn’t hit you immediately what exactly he meant by the last part. When it does, you’re glad he's busy rifling through the cabinet because you’re pretty sure your cheeks went yellow. He comes back up with the smaller bowl he owns and a clearly labeled bag. It has the name and both the CBD and THC potencies on it. Obviously, you knew there was a way to test for that but it didn’t strike you as something the average person could get a hold of. Logically, it’s a good thing, and it’s not like it’s your fault entirely, but it still has a pang of guilt running through you. It only further complicates the cocktail of emotions you have going on. Guilt is familiar, though. That one you know very well, especially recently. What’s really throwing you for a loop is the spark of anticipation bordering on excitement and the sliver of not unpleasant nervousness fluttering somewhere in your gut as you watch Gamzee tuck his unruly locks behind his ear before taking the first hit. His eyes are shut as he holds it in. He either forgets to use the spoof or isn’t giving any fucks about it today. With the stronger green hit out of the way, he takes another drag, then motions for you to come closer while holding a hand to one side of his mouth like he’s telling you a secret in a crowded room. You do the same on the other side to make a tunnel, the contactless way to share a hit. He exhales slowly, knowing your over-eager ass is going to try to get as much as you can. There’s a pout on your face after he pulls away. That was barely anything. He chuckles behind closed lips and smoke escapes from his sniff node. “Grub shuffles, brother. If that be a feeling what good and righteous, Im in possession plenty of both mirth and time. Ain’t got nowhere to be.” You sigh and loll your head to either side with a roll of your eyes; he’s right. “You know it best on taking it slow.” You do. Doesn’t mean you won’t complain.

“Mhm,” you hum as you slouch into the sofa. Gamzee switches up the Netflix to some DIY show about restoring old hives that you don’t have to pay too close attention to. The host is in the middle of flipping his pan over original tiles when the weed starts hitting. You make a small sound, barely noticeable, but Gamzee catches it.

“You doing good?” he asks, sitting up a little to look at you more directly.

“Yeah. It’s..." You aren’t sure what to call it. Gradual doesn’t describe it right. “ sah-subtle.” You think that’s as close as you’ll get. It feels like maybe you could get cozy and take a solid nap but at the same time, you aren’t tired. Gamzee nods and takes a few more hits for himself while you both become emotionally invested in seeing six layers of paint come off of the vintage cabinets in a dutch-colonial revival. Gamzee calls it a miracle; you call it a heat gun.

“You want another or you doing good?” Oh fuck yes, you want another. You nod enthusiastically and shift to face him. It isn’t until you’re moving to lay back against the sofa, lungs full of second hand, that you realize it took less effort. Maybe you’d qualify for a legal weed card. You exhale with what could easily be mistaken for a cough. “That a laugh just came out your noise tube?” You can hear the hopefulness in his voice.

“I think...yeah.” There’s even less hesitation in your speech. And then your mood turns sharply. Would Dave be disappointed in you? Would he understand? Did you think that in past tense or hypothetical? Alive or dead? You saw him die. You heard him die. But maybe he’s still somewhere in this other place on Derse? Can you believe that? You want to. You’ve been seeing him, hearing him, feeling him, dreaming about his touch and his voice. You thought you were crazy, but if it isn’t just you...

“Hey.” You jolt and shake your head in an attempt to shake away the thoughts too. Not thinking about that right now. Right now, you’re hanging out with Gamzee. That’s all you need to focus on. Everything else can be later. Just Gamzee, being stoned, and the restoration of a neoclassical victorian hive. You slump against him.

“Bad thoughts,” you say when you realize he must have asked you something pertaining to your wellbeing. He hums in confirmation and pushes you to sit up a little so he can move closer, and so you both can sit more comfortably with you snug into his side instead of leaning on his arm. You relax a little more while the episode plays out, almost back to where you were, feeling content but still too lucid. You think this is that point where mistakes happen, where you don’t wait long enough, so you give it more time. Just like he said, plenty of time and plenty of weed. No place to be. You can always have more if you start to come down.

By the end of another episode, Gamzee has nearly finished off another bowl. He’s poking it with the end of the lighter to unearth a chunk from beneath some ash. Enough time has passed that you think it’s safe to say the human devil isn’t going to rip out your bloodpusher through your knee cap. When you ask though, he says this is different shit. Right, highblood tolerance. You make a sour face that has him rambling on about it not being the end of the world, and how he can kill what's left and pack another with the stuff you can have, that ends with him telling you to have some water and maybe take a lap to the nutrition block and back to see how you feel. Good point. You finish off the water he hands you and pull yourself up by your psi-onics. It does hit you a bit more once you’re vertical but you’re still feeling confident that one more of the hits Gamzee has been giving you won’t send you over. You haven’t quite reached that empty headspace you were looking for. Thoughts were still easily passing through your sponge whenever your attention drifted from the tv or from the way Gamzee had his arm around you or the way he was periodically toying with the fabric of your sleeve. There’s another fluttering nervous feeling swirling in your stomach. You grind your teeth. One more, that’ll do it, that’ll let you step out of your head for sure. It has to. You make your way back into the living room and take a seat beside the purple blood just as he’s tamping down the leaves.

“Last one.”

“That meaning you want a good one?” he asks with a smirk. You nod and there must be something about your face that gives away what you’ve been mulling over. “Yeah, okay. No worries, we chasing them demons out your pan. Motherfucking, no vacancy. An’ if you in the mindset on doing something else engaging like ‘stead of just straight chillin, it’s all good.” He means videogames but something else comes to mind that maybe didn’t just come up now, that maybe was something you might have thought of before, that maybe didn’t exactly take you by complete surprise that first time he leaned in close but kept his distance and had you ignoring a pang of disappointment.

You bite your lip as you watch him. Indecision has everything feeling fast and slow at the same time. Every moment plays in high definition, minoot details standing stark. The careful way he pushes back that same stray lock of wavy hair, the way his hands move as he flicks the lighter, the details of his face when you look past his paint, the shift of fabric as he comes closer. He brings his hand up and so do you, but yours keeps going to rest on the back of his neck, pulling him those few inches closer that lets your lips brush against his. He doesn’t recoil. He keeps still, no closer or farther than you’ve brought him while you breathe in all he gives you. It’s more than before, thicker, with a taste that lingers on your palette. He gave you the green hit. Lips brush again as the action comes to a close. You’re holding your breath for obvious reasons but you think Gamzee might be too. Neither of you has pulled away yet. A wisp of smoke leaves your slightly parted lips as you dare to steal the lightest of kisses. He takes a sharp breath like he only just remembered that he needs to breathe before finally responding, kissing you back softly through streams of smoke.

When you break apart it’s with a cautious hesitation.

“Sol, is...I mean...shit man, like, I know I was offering times what in the past, but..." But what? Does he not want to? Like an asshole, you hadn’t considered being rejected. “Last time you was full of harshwhimsy and wanting to pretend like we ain’t fool around. Don’t get a motherfucker wrong, I’m down, but best be making sure you..." He’s trying to say something without saying it. “...figured all that shit out.” He’s trying not to bring up Dave. He’s trying to ask if you worked through that red mess or if you’re going to freak out again.

“Yeah.” You pick at your claw beds. It’s only sort of true.

“If you sure,” he says as he leans in close again. He kisses you slowly, giving you time to change your mind and pull away. You don’t. You kiss him back. It isn’t your best form but you’re feeling lighter than you have in weeks. Static crawls over your skin as you give yourself the needed nudge and the extra strength to pull yourself up on your knees, an action you barely complete before Gamzee is helping you into his lap. The sudden shift makes you dizzy but not in a bad way. Your high is kicking in, taking you to a hazier place where everything feels good. His hands on your thighs, your fingers in his hair, his scent wrapping around you, his lips taking yours again and again when he comes in for another kiss; sensations you could lose yourself to with ease.

“Please,” you say without breaking away. He chuckles and you can feel it reverberate in your mouth.

“How’s a motherfucker gonna say no when you asking like that?” His hands trail up your legs and over your sides to link behind your back, holding you close while he drops his head to speak close against your neck. “Maybe it’s dumb of me to get asking, but were you just in desire of contact what up in my space, or were you being solicitatious in the way it might be wise to get going to my room?” A trill clicks in your throat from the proximity of his voice and tone of his words. He should know better than to ask you an ‘or’ question.

“Both.”

[==> Sollux: Take a break from yourself](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26998042)

#  ==> Be Sollux the following morning.

You wake up to the feeling of weight displacing beside you and the sound of movement. Before it can fully register where exactly you are, Gamzee is petting your head and telling you to go back to sleep. You let your eyes fall shut again but just before you can truly drift off, you hear the unmistakable voice of your best friend. He sounds not happy. You could totally say fuck it and stay in Gamzee’s bed, let the two of them figure it out themselves, but that won’t be good for either of them and that makes it your problem by extension. Despite knowing you should get up, it still takes several moments and an internal ‘3..2..1...move’ before you fling back the covers only to be met with the surprise of your own nudity. Right, that was a thing that happened.

You find your boxers not far away on the floor but as you struggle with your shirt, you realize that it isn't your shirt. This is...telling, but whatever, it happened, Karkat will live through seeing you wearing Gamzee's shirt. He's going to need to live through seeing you without pants too because that's just too much effort for you right now. You ache from physically exerting yourself (and another reason that you shove to the back of your mind), so as much of a diffuser as walking would be for the situation, you float to the slightly ajar door instead.

"...AND YOU DIDN'T THINK THAT MAYBE HIM BEING HERE BY HIMSELF WAS A BIG FUCKING RED WIND FLAPPER THAT SOMETHING WASN'T RIGHT?" Karkat shouts.

"Man, I said how he been saying thoughts up in his head bothering him. He was here seeking asylum from himself. Motherfucking provided."

“Did you...? YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT, DID YOU GET HIM HIGH?”

“Don’t go getting your bulge all knotted up. We was careful on it.”

“THERE’S NO FUCKING ‘WE’ INVOLVED HERE. HE’S OUT OF HIS DAMN PAN WITH GRIEF SO BAD THAT HE CAN BARELY SPEAK OR MOVE. HE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT DAY IT IS. HE DOESN’T EAT UNLESS YOU TELL HIM TO. WHICH IS VOLUNTARY, BECAUSE HE’S NOT FORCE COMPLYING ANYMORE. IF YOU FUCKED WITH HIS THINK SPONGE CHEMISTRY AND HE STOPS EATING, I’M GOING TO RIP YOUR SENSORY ROPE OUT THROUGH YOUR CHUTE AND USE YOUR SPONGE ANCHOR LIKE A GOGDAMN SKIP-IT.”

“It ain’t gonna mess his pan up. Solbro just was needing to motherfucking relax. You could stand to get your chill on too.”

“I WOULDN’T TOUCH YOUR HUMAN SOPOR PLANT IF YOU PAID ME.”

“Wasn’t offering and I wouldn’t be selling to you anyhows.”

While you do realize the sense in what Karkat is saying, he’s being a little harsh and you can hear Gamzee starting to get pissed off about it. Quietly, you open the door enough to drift through it and make your way down the hall to the kitchen where they’re arguing.

“GOG, YOU’RE SUCH A PIECE OF WORK. DID HE AT LEAST--” Karkat’s sentence dead stops when he catches you out of the corner of his eye. His head turns to follow his gaze and for a pointed second, he looks you up and down. “You sick asshole,” his words come out quieter but you know the eye of a Vantas storm when you hear it. Maybe you should have put forth the effort to wear pants. “YOU DIDN’T JUST GET HIM HIGH, YOU FUCKED HIM DIDN’T YOU!? HE WAS UPSET AND YOUR SLEAZY ASS TOOK ADVANTAGE OF THAT SO YOU COULD GET IN HIS PANTS AGAIN!”

“It ain’t like that.” At first, Gamzee looks hurt at the accusation but his expression quickly flips to anger. “I ain’t do nothing--”

“YOU DIDN’T DO ANYTHING???” Karkat interrupts, voice pitching higher with disbelief.

“Sollux hit me up cause it my company what he was in need of. He been knowing how to get his communication on, so I don’t got much in the way a care for the implicatious words you all throwing my way, dawg.”

“MY IMPLICATIONS? YOU JUST MORE OR LESS SAID HE WAS ASKING FOR IT.”

“Oh, he asked, brother. Motherfucker even said please.” The smirk that spreads over Gamzee’s face is the last straw for Karkat. Your momentary mortification keeps you from intervening when he charges him, sending them both colliding into the kitchen table. It’s already close to the wall, but the force of it makes a loud thud when it slides the remaining inch or two. It isn’t likely that Karkat had much in the way of a plan after that, but even if he did, he doesn’t get very far before Gamzee has a hold on him.

“GET YOUR SKEEVY PRONGS OFF ME!"

“You need a fucking time out.”

"FUCK YOU, PUT ME DOWN!,” Karkat hisses. You know this is a serious situation but you can’t help but find the sight of him being sat on top of the fridge like a fussy wiggler to be humorous. You commit it to memory before stepping in, separating them with your psi-onics, and lowering Karkat back down to the floor. The anger melts out of him as he rushes over to you, grabbing you by your upper arms and looking you over as if there will be some kind of physical indicator of how you're feeling.

"I'm okay," you say quietly even though you are so wildly far from okay as a general state of being at present. Because of this, Karkat doesn't buy it and furrows his eyebrows in concern. You turn to look at Gamzee and gesture with a tilt of your head for him to give you a minute alone. He nods a few times and disappears into the living room. Karkat is probably waiting for you to say something. Instead, you take a deep breath and sigh before resting your forehead against his shoulder.

"You're obviously not okay." No shit, but how do you explain that it has nothing to do with Gamzee or your somewhat impulsive choices? "But you don't seem worse. And you did tell someone where you were going this time at least.” Karkat sighs and pulls you into a loose hug that gets a little tighter when you put your feet on the floor instead of floating.

“Asked him to.” It isn’t exactly what you want to say but what you want to say is too much for you to articulate and keeps getting lost on it’s way to your mouth. “Needed to stah-stop thinking.” That’s a little closer.

“Mission fucking accomplished there. Ow, hey!” he complains when you send a little shock his way. He doesn’t hold it against you for long and heaves another heavy sigh. “What am I going to do with your reckless ass?” You shrug. “If you say he didn’t do anything I should eviscerate him for, I guess whatever you want to do with him is none of my damn business. But I'm not apologizing to that maggot-sponged idiot. He should have known better than to let you smoke. It could have gone really badly and if you don’t get better than I--” Karkat’s voice gets all wavery and high pitched before he cuts himself off. “I don’t know.” That wasn’t what he was going to say; you’re almost sure of it. You peel yourself away from him, bearing your weight on your psi-onics, and roll your eyes. Karkat of course takes offense to this until you drop the arm crutches out of your sylladex. The things you do for him, standing, walking, ugh.

You open your mouth to, again, say that you’re okay, but that’s not true. You aren’t okay, you aren’t better, and you’ll never be better, not until you see Dave again, but that won’t make Karkat feel any less shitty. You need to say something else. “He didn’t.” With that, you take the many exhausting steps to the living room to retrieve Gamzee. You catch a sour look on his face that he tries to hide from you, so you grant him the courtesy of pretending you didn’t see it. Karkat has a similar look on his face when you make your way back. It distracts you from the burden of motion just as you’re crossing the threshold where carpet becomes linoleum. You slip.

“Got you, brother,” Gamzee says as he grabs the back of your- or well, his shirt you guess. You would have caught yourself anyway but the gesture is nice nonetheless. Karkat makes sure to remind Gamzee to take you to outpatient, which is apparently in an hour and a half, and then starts to see himself out.

“Oh wait,” he says, stopping abruptly. “I got you this.” He comes over and drops a box out of his sylladex. “It’s not the same model, but it’s the same brand because I know you’d turn your ungrateful sniff node up at anything that isn’t Samsubjugation.” He got you a new palm husk and it isn’t a piece of shit model either. It’s even the right carrier. “Roxy helped me pick it out, so unless she was pulling my frond it should be as good if not better than your old one.” No, it’s a good one. There’s no way it wasn’t expensive as shit either. You make a mental note to PayTroll Karkat for it so he can’t refuse.

“Thanks.” You immediately try to tear the box open but struggle with the pull tab. Karkat gets it for you and you thank him again. You don’t fiddle with it right away, you just want to take a look. Still, the emotion vaguely resembling enthusiasm has Karkat looking more at ease.


	18. Chapter 36: Seeing is believing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~my surgery got pushed back to the 24th so I had just enough time to crank out another chapter for y'all.~~
> 
> ~~wish me luck on not kickin it.~~
> 
> ~~if i do though, the google drive link for my outline will post to my tumblr on 12/6.~~
> 
> I lived bitches
> 
> 12/17 update:
> 
> hi guys, my recovery is going well. I was even feeling good enough to over do it a little. still in some pain but mostly very tired.
> 
> just wanted pop in and mention that, but also say that while I have done some writing, don't expect a January update. however, the February update should be very substantial for reasons >:3
> 
> for this screen reader version I'll try to get the kringlefucker chapters converted before the holiday season is out but no promises cuz even small things are wearing me out fast still.

# ==> Be Roxy.

You finish off another drink and pop two more quarters in the machine. Miss Pacman isn’t really your gig but it’s the only game in this bar. You couldn’t bear to set foot in your usual haunt. It holds too many good memories of you and Sollux. Right now, that’s what you’re running from. He was doing so good and you let him walk right into another setback. You shouldn’t have told him. You should have just lied to Karkat and said Sollux didn’t feel up to it. Having him angry with you would have been better than seeing all that progress crumble in his hands. It might have even helped. You’ve been trying to push his buttons lately and he was giving you more and more feedback. He even growled at you a little when you tried to wake him up yesterday. But you didn’t want to keep him in the dark. It felt too personal for everyone but him to know. Still, he might have been better off not knowing, at least for a little while, at least until he was able to handle it better. You can’t do this without him. And you mean that in more than one respect.

As much as you hate to admit it, you need Sollux’s help with these disks. It’s some really advanced ~ATH. You aren’t even 100% sure it isn’t over his head too. That fact only makes it weirder that it has some errors in it that are wildly basic. You aren’t sure what to make of that. The only thing you can think of is that more than one person wrote it but then why didn’t the more knowledgeable person correct anything? Not to mention most of it looks corrupted as hell. You need another drink if you’re still clear-headed enough to keep thinking about all this shit.

It turns out to be several drinks.

It’s not the first time you’ve ever been cut off, but it has been a while since the last time it happened. You don’t put up a fuss about it. There’s no point in that. It certainly wouldn’t change their mind. Besides, you have more in your sylladex. You make your way down the block, ducking between buildings here and there to take long swigs of hard liquor until your head is numb. Periodically your thoughts dip but you’re too far gone to dwell on them. You’re too far gone to care about flunking this semester, or about the jenga tower that is your interpersonal relationships, or how you apparently have to save the world first for any of it to even matter. You’re so far gone in fact, that you don’t notice the body in front of you until you walk straight into a very solid torso. It sends you stumbling backward and then staggering forward when you compensate too much. By then the person who belongs to said torso has turned around and is there to steady you. At first, you think the strong forearms under your hands belong to Dirk, which is stupid because he went to go get his car and there’s no way he’s back yet, but after a moment you realize that the blue tinted skin isn’t a trick of the light.

“There you are,” Equius says as if he’s been looking for you. “Nepeta requested that I find you some time ago, however, you were not at the expected location.” Well, that explains that. The words don't click with you right away and when they do, your face screws up with confusion.

You want to ask what he means by Nepeta sent him to find you, but what comes out instead is a perplexed "Huh?" He puts a hand to your shoulder, feather-light, to steer you in only a slightly different direction than you were headed.

"You are inebriated and the burden of your retrieval has been placed on my strong capable shoulders," he says.

“I...what?”

“I forbid Nepeta from venturing out unaccompanied at this hour. She wanted to look for you. I would not allow it and took up the task in her steed.”

“Why not? Sheescape-bul.” Your words slur together as you teeter into Equius’s side.

“That is none of your concern.” Equius steadies you. Again, he barely touches your shoulder. You make it a few more steps before you stumble again, thrown off by how a nearby tree has lifted part of the sidewalk. “I will require you to refrain from falling down.” He says it like you have complete and total control of that and are swaying just for fun. You hum a short laugh.

"Mmkay." No sooner do you say it does the toe of your shoe catch another uneven patch. It has you latching onto Equius's arm with an exclamation of surprise that dissolves into laughter.

"I do not find the humor in damaging one's thinksponge to the point of motor dysfunction." There is a slight waver to his voice that gets worse when you rest your head against his deltoid. "Perhaps it would behoove us to contact your moir-, your human cousin." You make a sound somewhere between a grumble and a whine at the suggestion.

"He's isn't here." Even if he were, you shouldn't give him more to think about. He has enough going on.

"Yes, that is the reason for contacting him."

"No, he's'like, he went back ta," your hand hangs in the air for a moment as you gesture away in an arbitrary direction meant to be south. "get 'is car."

"I see." There is something to the tone of his voice that your brain can't wrap around at the moment, some kind of... disapproval? After that, there is a stretch of silence save for the sound of your shoes scuffing on the concrete with every odd step. Your head is already spinning enough when you remember that you still don’t know why Nepeta was looking for you, but when you turn to look at Equius, everything goes off-kilter.

“Hey, why’d did-- oh shit!” It looks like you'll be holding the title of fall-down drunk tonight. You sit on the ground, palms flush to the sidewalk as you collect yourself and wait for the world to stop spinning so much. A dull pain throbs in your knee and an unreasonable amount of sadness grips you when you see that you've ripped your leggings beyond their fashionably distressed state while giving yourself a good scrape.

"My apologies," Equius says as he kneels down in front of you. "Nepeta will be upset if you are returned with any further damage, so I must insist that you allow me to carry you."

"I'm, I'm good. I can walk juss fine." You wave him off and try to get to your feet but only succeed in falling back on your ass. The noise Equius makes is best described as strangled. Okay, so maybe you aren't the most good you could be, but you aren't stooping to being carried back to campus like a sack of potatoes. You make a last claim about being fine before allowing Equius to carry you on his back, but only because you’re tired. After a minute or so, you don’t know why you were fussing so much. This is even actually kind of nice. He's more muscular than Dirk but it still reminds you of the way Dirk carried you back to the hotel you had been staying at in Houston. Among all the shit, for a moment, it was just you and him running from the inevitable together. It wasn't okay, there was no fixing it, and pretending otherwise could only get you so far, but as long as Dirk was there, it felt bearable.

# ==> Be Dirk.

The sun isn’t even up yet when you check out of the motel. You’re making record time getting your jeep back to where it’s of any use to anyone. With people finally believing you and having two irons solidly in the fire, you figured it was a good time to do it. Your presence isn't needed if Roxy wants to ask you anything regarding the disks and it's not like you can hop a flight to help Jade, so this was as close to downtime as it could possibly get.

You suppose it truly is something of a break even if most people would disagree that driving 8+ hours a day isn't exactly self-care. You don't mind it. Traveling is old hack to you. That and, well, you know what they say about the intrinsic romanticism of it. There is a fantastical quality to the similar yet entirely strange places, to the fleeting moments with people you’ll never see again, to the temporary friends who-- freed from the inhibitions of lasting consequence, will openly bear their souls. It coalesces in an otherworldly atmosphere of just passing through, never staying long enough for the picturesque veneer to wear thin and reveal a place for what it is. For you, there was a time where the romance was much more literal, but still captured that same almost dream-like quality. Those first few months when Jake had only just arrived state-side were something else. The honeymoon period always is, or so you're told. You had never had something like that before. The thrill, the tension, the raw unfiltered intimacy of a shared transient space. Sure, you were hiding from Bro at the time, but while Jake got his fill of the world beyond his island before it all went sour, the danger only added to the experience. It was practically cinematic and you knowingly fed into that for Jake, even if it was a bit manipulative. What can you say? It made your heart race. It felt good being someone's manic pixie dream boy for more than a few hours. And on that subject, you had never been so hesitant while simultaneously so eager. It was months of catching glances and brushing hands, platonic touches that lingered just a bit too long. You wanted the game to last forever but at times you felt as though you might explode if he didn’t kiss you soon. A man of lesser discipline would have tarnished it, but you held yourself at bay, willing to stew in your own hormones for something real. Yet, you sometimes wonder if in seeking out that realness, you merely manufactured it instead.

Regardless, Roxy was living for your updates on it. She poked a lot of fun at you but in that caring way she does. Looking back you suppose that went a long way in her endeavor to work her way into your head. It isn't as though you didn't trust her before then, only that you didn't have the background for it. Just as Jake had never had soft serve ice cream (something you did not fucking hesitate to exploit in a salacious manner), you didn't have a lick of experience with letting people in and certainly not to that extent. Sometimes you wonder why she tried so hard, why she still tries.

Anyway, today should prove interesting. Jade got the dreambot working and should be dropping the video for everyone to watch soon. Kanaya had news too; they opened the box under Dave's bed. Sollux didn't take it well. Overall, though, you hear he's been doing better every day. Hopefully, this didn't set him back far. There isn't a lot of time for that. You make a note to check through someone else first before you pry about the relevancy of his dead lover’s D&D book. You’ll do that later, right now you’re just pulling up to your apartment and looking forward to stretching your legs and grilling a cheese. Pesterchum pings as you kill the engine. When the application doesn’t pop up on your shades, for a moment, you feel irritated. It’s quickly replaced by a familiar cocktail of guilt. You still do that every now and then. You still try to interface with Hal even though it’s been nearly two months.

centaursTesticle [C T] began pestering timaeusTestified [T T].

C T: What is your estimated time of arrival

T T: Just did. Why do you ask?

C T: Your immediate presence is required, neigh, it is demanded

T T: At the shop I assume?

C T: Yes

centaursTesticle [C T] ceased pestering timaeusTestified [T T].

That was...odd. Equius is an odd guy but that exchange came with an extra side of weird. Usually, he would give you time to ask why if he didn’t supplement a reason to begin with. You contemplate having your grilled cheese first despite Equius’s use of the word “immediate”, but decide you might as well head over before you get comfortable. After all, he does employ you. You haven't been doing much of that work thing as of late for obvious reasons. He probably wants to discuss it.

When you arrive, you expect to follow Equius into the office, a logical place to discuss things more privately, but instead he leads you into the workshop. Between that and the amount of sweat beading down his face, you are colored suspicious. He dabs his forehead with a towel and meanders over to his usual bench while you take up space, arms crossed, leaning against the adjacent wall a few paces away from the door you came through.

"I find no pleasure in having this conversation with you." Huh, sounds like you're about to be fired. "But your failure to remain **STRONG** and **STEADFAST** in your pale quadrant has upset my moirail and I can not allow that." Or not?

"I'm not following." Your response has Equius scowling and setting aside the paperwork he was pretending to look at.

"I should have expected as much." You let an eyebrow creep over your shades. "The magnitude of your neglect towards your moirail is an obscenity." His lip curls as he spits out the word ‘obscenity’ revealing one of his cracked teeth.

“I don’t have a moirail.” Your reply does nothing to alleviate the uncomfortable air to Equius’s mannerisms. To say he is taking zero pleasure in this conversation is an understatement. But didn’t you already clear the air on this?

“You do, and your refusal to acknowledge it is disgusting.” The rate at which Equius is perspiring increases as he steps closer to you. He’s taller and no amount of posturing can overcome the way he is looming over you, but you straighten up anyway, uncrossing your arms as you bring yourself to your full height.

“Regardless of my theoretical moral failings, why is it any of your business?” This is getting a little weird. You can feel the threatening presence he’s trying to project as a means to chip away at your cool.

“I should not be surprised that you are unaware,” Equius says as he leers closer still, doing his damndest to intimidate you and seemingly getting frustrated with your lack of a reaction to it.

“Don’t fucking high road me, if you have something to say--,” Your cut off by the sudden action of hands fisting themselves into the fabric of your shirt and the force of being slammed against the wall, held aloft so that your feet no longer touch the ground.

“You left her to wander the night and suckle at the teat of soporifics to the point of excess. She did not respond to inquiries of her whereabouts. I forbade Nepeta from venturing out at such an hour, so it was I who sought her and carried her back to the communal study hives. Your moirail is a drunkard and you are a disgrace.”

“Don’t talk about Roxy like that.” The statement isn’t a surrender, but it does concede some ground. He never actually said Roxy’s name, and you can see the subtle shift in Equius’s expression that savors the victory, a smug smirk. “She’s just having a hard time,” you say as you grip his wrists in an attempt to lessen some of the strain from the way he has you held up.

“I know. Nepeta and I both are now scandalously aware of these ‘hard times’ you speak of.” Knowing Equius, scandalous is probably an exaggeration...probably. “Why it is that she exudes such pity for you, I will never understand.”

“You and me both,” you say before you can hold your tongue. At that, he pulls you back far enough to slam you against the wall again. It’s like you weigh nothing to him. “Look man, A plus intimidation factor. Not working, but I get the idea. So, if you could put me down that’d be great because you are giving me the weirdest boner.” You barely choke out the words before Equius releases you and takes several steps back. Yeah, that’s what you thought, fuckin’ prude.

“Such disrespect,” he sneers. “It is the variety of selfishness that will have you groveling on your knees when she comes to her senses and confides in another.” The comment stings and the feeling almost has you faltering through its sheer existence. Between the recent events and all that downtime driving back up here, maybe you’re starting to thaw out. You, however, don’t let onto that bit of introspection. Instead, you stubbornly hold your ground.

“Roxy can talk to whoever she wants.” The words leave a bad taste in your mouth.

“Is that your conviction? Is it your FIRM belief that seeing her with another would not stir your ire in the slightest?” Equius takes a step forward. It would be more intimidating had you not caught his hesitation. You stay silent and stare ahead at him. He swallows hard and sweat pours down his temple, giving away the difficulty of what he’s planning to say. “Even if it were I?” He’s bluffing.

“You _have_ a moirail.” The sentence has far too many vowels for you to clearly articulate. It loses most of its bite and leaves you out of breath.

“Yes, my diamond is **UNYIELDING** , a pinnacle of **FORTITUDE**. With my nobility, it would not be unheard of for a moirallegiance of such **STRENGTH** to take mutual pity on a wretch in their time of desperation. Nepeta and I would never hold Roxy to the regard of each other, she would only ever be a paramour, but we would value her more than you do.” You can see where Equius’s words are headed well before he’s done speaking and every word winds you tighter. The neutral line that is normally your mouth slowly curls into a grimace as your jaw clenches tighter. If he could see your eyes, they would surely bore holes in him. The last few words, a low-spoken threat, leave his mouth and something in you snaps. The next thing you know, Equius is on the floor and you’re looking down at him with bloody knuckles while he spits out one of his cracked teeth. You might have felt bad about that if you weren’t fairly certain they grow back. _Might_.

“You so much as offer her a condolence and I’ll make your horns match.” The way he smirks and laughs under his breath as his shoulders ease confirms your read of him. It was a bluff. You knew it was a bluff, and yet...

“I will inform Nepeta that you are on your way,” Equius says with a smug air to his voice. You don’t have a response for that and you aren’t about to spite him at Roxy’s expense, so you turn away and leave without another word.

# ==> Dirk: Go see Roxy.

Nepeta is waiting for you in the lobby as you expected she might be. Her excited expression leads you to believe she may have orchestrated the events that brought you here.

“I’m so glad mew happened to stop by. Roxy could use some compawny and you two are purrticularly close,” Nepeta says as she steps into the elevator and pushes the button for her floor. Yeah, between that and Equius sweating more bullets than usual, you are thinking she masterminded this.

“Equius mentioned she wasn’t feeling well.” You keep it vague, but Nepeta’s face still tints green and she starts fiddling with her sleeves.

“Yeah, she was out very late last night. It was a little catcerning.”

“So I heard.” At that remark, she looks up at you with wide eyes.

“Equius tends to exaggerate with that sort of thing. We only made sure that she was alright.” Huh, you wonder now what exactly her instructions were. Equius probably wouldn’t go the path he did without provocation. Perhaps he misinterpreted her, or maybe you just sounded angry.

“I figured.” Your response visibly eases Nepeta just in time for the elevator to open. You step out and expect her to follow but when you don’t hear footfalls, it has you turning around to see her waving goodbye at you seconds before the doors start closing. This is totally a setup.

The door is being held slightly ajar by the stopper jammed in an unorthodox manner between the door and the frame. You open it slowly and pan your gaze but don't see Roxy anywhere. Probably in the bathroom then. Just as you're thinking it, you hear sick sounds and a groan from the other side of the wall. Damn, for her to be full-blown hungover like that isn't good. You make your way in and expect to see Roxy looking pretty disheveled, and she is. What you hadn't expected to see was evidence that she spent the remainder of the night and likely a good chunk of the morning sleeping in the bathtub. Her robe is bundled up like a makeshift pillow and there's a blanket or two in there. You suppose that makes sense. Tile is easier to clean and those are very washable items.

"Hey," you say to get her attention. She groans in acknowledgment but otherwise stays put where she is on the floor folded over to rest her forehead on her knees. There is a bottle of Pedialyte nearby and while it's good that she's hydrating, the fact that she is so prepared is telling. You take a seat beside her, sitting cross-legged, and rub her back. You only meant it to be a brief gesture of comfort, but she whines when you stop. So, you pick up where you left off, kneading the muscles by her shoulders and moving up to soothe the crick in her neck that she surely has from where she slept. Come to think of it... "You want me to crack your neck?" Your offer gets an affirmative sound out of her and she sits up. You get behind her and pull her to sit up a bit straighter, then take her head in your hands and tell her to relax before cracking her neck with several satisfying pops.

"Unf, that's better than sex." She swivels her head from side to side. "Okay, not really, but Jake was a fool to give up access to your bone magic."

"Bone magic?" you ask. She snorts what seems like a much-needed laugh. You continue to work the stress out of her shoulders with firm pressure that she melts into. It occurs to you a few beats late that she said that as if Jake had broken up with you, instead of the other way around. Did she talk to him? If so, you guess he had no interest in trying to get you back. Not that you were trying to provoke that out of him. That wasn't the goal. Yet, you can't help but think it would have been nice to be proven wrong about this particular issue.

“I think I’m good now,” Roxy says after a few quiet minutes. She grabs the sink edge and pulls herself up enough to flush away last night's regrets before sitting back down and scooting closer to lean against you and the tub.

"So," you start as you loop your arm around her. "Rough night?" She groans, nods her head, and burrows further into your side. Not a lot to go on there. You rest your head on hers. "You can talk to me and stuff if you need to." It comes out less than smooth, like unpracticed lines. For a moment, you aren't sure if she is going to take you up on the offer but then, after a deep sigh, she responds.

"Everything's just kind of bullshit right now is all."

You hum in agreement. She sighs. Maybe you weren’t supposed to agree with her. Backtracking won’t do any good, so you bring your other arm up to wrap around her and kiss the top of her head. You aren’t exactly therapist of the year, but you make sure she’s alright. You sit there with her for some time, then help her take off yesterday's makeup, and have her drink some more Pedialyte. She insists on cleaning up your knuckles even though it’s just scratches (she disagrees that they are just scratches). You let her though. You know how that can be. She’s already looking heaps better by the time you shoo her into the shower, promising to return with the least healthy food you can find by the time she’s out.

# ==> Be Dave several hours ago.

"Aight, homedog, throw up an L 7, flip it turn ways, and let's get this party started," You say as you plop down on the end of Jade’s dream bed. Kanaya and Rose come to sit somewhat behind you on either side while Terzi and Dirk remain standing nearby, and for old times sake, Hal has taken up his former residence on Dirk’s face. There’s an excitement in the air that you’re trying to match, focusing on putting up your best front instead of on the churning in your gut. Jade makes a viewfinder with her hands and you hit the gas, launching into a ramble about the state of your mortality with a fake smile that hides the reality. You give an empty laugh before hogging the spotlight to say a few things about the purgatorius dreamscape where you’ve been left on the sideline, turning your phrases with humor to hide the depressing actuality of your fatality. The others chime in but your silence has no longevity. It’s straight-up chronic. You spew interjections like projectile vomit, feeling the wave of nausea but unable to stop it. No one notices. You power through with a perfected facade. Everyone gets a word in despite your compulsive jabbering marauds. The video is mostly to prove you and this place exist at all, but your friends also use it to clear up some key things that, earthside, they can never recall. Although, it’s doubtless that something is being forgotten. It’s fine, really, nothing to get all caught up in. Y’all can get it next time. No big deal, not even remotely. It’s all peachy keen. Totally.

When it’s finally over, you feel like you’ve just woken up in a cold sweat with an entire lecture hall oblivious to your plight.

Things wrap up with everyone in good spirits. Jade even goes so far as to say it was fun. It makes what you intend to ask her all that much harder. It was already going to be difficult. It’s brutal waiting for everyone to clear out so you can talk to her and the whole time you’re worried that she’s going to wake up before you can, but by some miracle, people either wake up or disperse.

“Are you alright, Dave?” she asks once you’re alone, breaking the silence and jarring you from your thoughts.

“What? Yeah, no, I’m cool, but uh, I was just thinking that,” you swallow hard and fidget, shifting your weight to your other leg where you’re leaning against the wall. “Like, maybe I should say something directly to Sollux.” 

“That’s a great idea!” she says with more enthusiasm than you are equipped to handle right now. “He misses you so much. I’m sure it would mean a lot to him and it could even help him get better.” Yeah, you had similar thoughts. You heard he’s been improving. Rose thinks that he’s reached, or is reaching the limit of what the medication alone can do for him, so she speculates that a lot of his more recent progress is from seeing you. At first, you thought that she was just trying to ease your guilt about interrupting his vision, but after seeing their conversations, sitting in on the memo, and hearing that he’s even started trying to walk again, you think maybe she’s right about it being beneficial in the end. So, yeah, maybe it will help him get better.

“That’s the goal,” you say. Jade is all smiles as she reaches out to pull you by the hand over to her bed. The movement makes your stomach lurch. You take a seat and so does she, sitting a little farther away from you than she might normally since she’s essentially a camera. If you weren’t so on edge, you’d appreciate the attention to detail in framing the shot.

“Ready when you are,” She says as she makes a viewfinder with her hands again to make things less weird. You instantly forget everything you wanted to say.

“So uh, here I am not being dead. Surprise?” That was absolute shit. “I- I thought I should, like, say some stuff directly to you...privately, or well, at least as private as it gets. So...so,” You swallow and try to take a deeper breath as nonchalantly as possible. “It’s, I mean.” You’re suddenly aware that you’re bouncing your leg and quickly put a stop to it. “It’s been pretty crazy here. I hope you’re doing alright earthside. I uh, I can’t wait to- to uh...” You look away. “I can’t do this.” You spring up to your feet and make for the window but Jade stops you.

“Dave, wait!” She catches you by the arm in the worst way she could and you’re too worn down to stifle the deeply ingrained response. It has you whipping around and jerking away.

“Don’t touch me!” In the moment you can’t tell if it’s hurt, fear, or shock in her eyes, but your regret is immediate and your demeanor turns on a dime. “No, fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t- I didn’t mean- Shit.” You bail, flash stepping past the window ledge and quickly descending to street level. Carapacians stare at you with confusion as you bolt down the labyrinth of streets, taking several wrong turns before finally finding the catacomb entrance that will take you to the transportalizer that will take you back to Derse.

# ==> Sollux: Return from therapy.

You’ve been trying not to think about anything too much today after what happened yesterday. Which means you've been thinking a lot about everything.

The thing with Gamzee went alright, but your mind still circled back to it a few times anyway. Initially, you were a little worried that things would get weird after Karkat left. They didn't though. Gamzee asked if you were really okay, you said you were, he smiled, and then he made breakfast while you got ready for outpatient. His cooking is really hit or miss. You're fairly certain he put cheese whizz in that omelet. Anyway, he was really cool about everything. You knew he would be. That's why you asked him to uh...to make you not think for a while. And you don't regret it. It was nice, maybe even more than nice. Okay, it was actually really really good and you're glad you can recall it in its entirety this time. So why do you keep dwelling on it? Why do you keep toying with the bracelet on your wrist like it's a puzzle you can't figure out? At least it's a thought that comes and goes.

The other new addition to the abundance of thoughts that assault your sponge daily is a bit more persistent. Aradia’s flarp manual itches at the back of your mind. It’s tied to something you can’t quite remember, like half-heard lyrics to a song you don’t know the name of. Not knowing is driving you crazy, but thinking about it, thinking about her, remembering your time together; it still hurts. Even after all this time, it still makes your heart ache.

“You in there, man?” Latula asks before pressing the button for the top floor of your hive stem. You pick your head up to look at her.

“Yeah,” you say with a nod that is interrupted by the jerk of the elevator beginning to move. Latula is quick to keep you steady on your feet, whipping her arm out like you’re a pizza box on the front seat, which isn’t that surprising since she spends a lot of time with your littermate.

“I said Mituna is gonna be psyched to see you using a palm husk again.” You nod in response but don’t say anything. The conversation dies with you only barely engaging in it, and there's a moment where the only sound between you is the hum of the elevator motor. It’s not an awkward silence, but there is something slightly tense about it. “Hey, um,” Latula starts again, her voice laced with an unusual hesitance. “Mituna was saying how you’re eating pretty much by yourself now, but he doesn’t think you’re really digging it.” That’s certainly one way of putting your lack of enthusiasm for existing. But yes, you are eating like a grown-ass troll again, albeit reluctantly. “It’s like a depression thing, right? Everything tasting like soggy cardboard?” At that, you turn your head to show that you’re listening so she’ll continue whatever point she’s trying to get at. “If you want, I can rec you some things that pack a punch and have a good texture to them.” Honestly, you aren’t sure that will do any good, but she’s only trying to be helpful and you’re a huge burden, so you probably shouldn’t be a complete asshole about it.

“Sure.” Your response is lackluster but it’s a response at least.

“Rad.” Her face lights back up and her shoulders ease, restoring her to her normally confident self again. “I’ll message you later about it.” You idly wonder what that was all about until she looks up to see what floor you’re passing and her face catches the light. They aren’t as visible as they used to be, you wouldn’t even notice them unless you knew they were there or were standing really close to her, but you can still see the scars from when they rebuilt her sniff node after a particularly bad skateboarding accident. Latula can't smell anything so her ability to taste is lacking, which you guess might be pretty personal. She isn't good with personal shit. Yet, she made the gesture anyway, sympathizing with you, exposing a weakness for your benefit. Great, more people going even further to make sure you get better. Part of you says that that’s what is currently happening whether you like it or not, but another part of you is still firmly grounded in a weird place where everything feels conditional, temporary, and fraudulent. 

You finally reach your hive and ditch the arm crutches in favor of your less taxing psy-onics, but any hope you had of crawling into your coon for a midday depression nap is dashed when you see Karkat, Kanaya, and Rose sat waiting for you at the table in your nutrition block area. An apprehensive feeling flares at the base of your pan.

“Sollux,” Kanaya begins, looking up from her conversation with Karkat, who continues to have his back to you. “We have something to show you.” She says it calmly but there is an undercurrent of excitement in her voice that bleeds into her expression. Rose has a similar look in her eyes. It has you wary, as does the look of very mixed and barely contained emotion that you catch on Karkats face as he gets up and tugs you over to the lounge plank where his husktop is set up next to a box of tissues. You are becoming increasingly concerned and bordering on panic until you hear Mituna’s heavy footsteps come barreling down the hall.

“Tula!” he yells as he wraps his arms around her, picks her up, and somehow manages to spin them both in circles without falling over. “Are we watching it now?”

“Obviously,” Karkat grumbles, glaring at him from over the back of the lounge plank as he helps you settle into it. “Are you still doing alright?” His voice softens when he turns his attention back to you. You roll your eyes and huff out a puff of air, rebuffing the concern to spite your nerves about what’s happening. The corner of his mouth ticks up. Whether it’s because he took the action as a sign of improvement or because he’s realizing that you probably don’t need his help sitting down, you aren’t sure.

Everyone but you seems to know something and the way they’re crowding around you isn’t helping ease your paranoia. It feels like you're being set up for one of those terrible reaction videos. Kanaya comes to sit on your other side with Rose perching herself on the armrest while Latula and Mituna lean on the back of the lounge plank. You’re starting to feel dizzy. “Jade sent this out a few hours ago,” Rose clarifies. The vague statement has your shoulders easing for a millisecond before the implication hits you and everything tenses right back up. 

Karkat wakes the husktop from sleep and when he logs into it, there is already a video player open. It’s entirely black and the progress bar is all the way to the right. They’ve already watched it. He hits play and you swear your bloodpusher jumps into your protein chute. The video is grainy, it can’t be more than 240p, but it’s Dave. It’s Dave and he’s moving and talking and breathing, he’s breathing, and he’s alive; Dave’s alive. Your moirail is alive.

The video is probably full of vital info that you should know, but all you can process is Dave, not even what he’s saying, just him being there at all. It really has been him this whole time. All those moments where you thought you were so desperate with grief to see him or hear his voice or feel his touch again, so broken and irreparably damaged that your thinksponge was hallucinating, it was really him. A pang of pity aches deep in your chest. He had no way of knowing you could sense him in any capacity but he was still there trying to make it better. Someone pats your back and you take in a sharp breath that turns into a stilted sob. The sheer overwhelming force of everything you’re feeling has your anguish ducts spilling over. It's far from new, you've been crying for weeks, but this time there's relief in it.

Without thought, when the video ends, you reach out to replay it. You need to see Dave. You need to see him alive again.

"Hey, Sollux, hey, wait, hold on a second," Karkat says, coming between you and your goal. His words fall on deaf ears as you try to reach around him with increasing desperation. You need to see Dave. "Damn it, you're like a wet meow beast! Just, augh, hold still a second!" It takes both him and Kanaya wrapping their arms tight around you to get you to relent and start settling down.

“Dave,” you choke on his name and grip both their arms as another string of sobs shakes you.

“Yeah, it’s Dave,” Karkat says, barely keeping his voice steady. You say your moirail’s name again in a wavering whisper and the arms around you hold you tighter. “You can watch it again, but just calm down first, okay?” You nod and grip fistfuls of fabric, one more harsh sob escaping your throat when you try to breathe deeper. Behind you, you can hear Latula and Rose trying to explain what’s happening to Mituna. He doesn’t understand why you’re upset. He thought you’d be happy. They’re trying to tell him that you aren’t sad, you’re just overwhelmed. You think you might have also needed to hear that. You’re so completely saturated with feelings that they’re all blending together into one big mess. There’s relief, so much relief, but it hurts too.

“Darling, could you get him some water?” Kayana says softly over her shoulder. A moment later, she and Karkat are slowly letting go of you and Rose is putting a cup in your hands. You sip at it while Kanaya rubs your back. Here and there your breath stutters but gradually you’re getting a hold of yourself and regaining some semblance of composure. Karkat has tissues at the ready, having used a few himself. Your hands are less than cooperative, but you do clean up your own face.

When you ask to rewatch the video, there are some uncertain looks around you. Honestly, you can't fault them. They don't stop you though. This time as it plays, you're able to actually take in what's happening. All too soon, however, your focus shifts. You're still paying attention to the frankly wild shit being relayed to you, but it's taking a back seat to the subtle red wind flappers in Dave's behavior. You glance at the others around you and then back at the video. Dirk and Hal probably know at least to some extent, and maybe even Rose too, but no one is acknowledging it. No one is taking any notice of how horrifyingly uncomfortable and nervous Dave is. He's barely keeping it together. If this is from last night... You remember the look on Dave’s face. He was trying to keep a stiff lip for you, but he wasn't hiding himself away like he is in the video, not even close. His expression was just shy of harrowing. It made him look tired in a way that suggested the stress was eating him alive, but still left him room to deny it, which means it was definitely doing that.

Your thoughts are derailed by a sudden noise behind you. Mituna is staggering backward, grasping blindly for the nutrition block table while he holds his head. Stifled sounds escape him as Latula begins guiding him to sit down, taking his weight in her arms when his balance goes to hell entirely and instead helps him to the floor. It’s an aftershock. Thankfully they don't tax Mituna’s psionics like the visions do, and like yours, it’s generally shorter. You know he'll be fine, just like you always are, but you also know it sucks a lot. It's not fun to watch either. You turn away from where you're all looking on over the lounge plank and sink against Karkat. It isn’t long before you can hear him coming back around. You know he’s good when you hear the thud of Latula punching him in the arm followed by him laughing.

“Did you really just try to cop a feel?” Karkat asks in a tone that says he really isn’t surprised at all by this.

“Try? I grabbed hells of ass.” Mituna follows his gloating with a cackle that fades out as he goes to sit up.

“You get any better reception up in there, babe?” Latula asks as she helps her matesprite to his feet. Mituna stumbles but finds his footing before planting his ass in a chair with a tired exhale.

“Was like..." he squints and bites his lip, then looks to the ceiling for the right words. You shift, turning and sitting up enough to see over the back of the lounge plank again. “Sssthomeplace all cold and metal, lots of machines. An old human guy was handing me a, a red book, and sthome of those dick, disth, **DISKS** and, and..." he pauses and lightly smacks his forehead with the heel of his hand. “I was sad? I think I knew that I wasthnt going to see him again. He sussaid ssthomething, said... ‘Don’t worry, kitten. You’ve always been a whizz with puzzles’, then I woke up.” His face scrunches up and he pinches the bridge of his sniff node while leaning on his elbow. You know that feeling. It’s a hard to pinpoint kind of headache. Latula walks around to stand behind him and gently pets his head, lingering around his horns while trying to be discrete about it. You don’t need to see that so you sink back into the plush plank rectangles.

"That sounds like it may have been my mother," Rose comments. In that letter, Bro said Miz-- or Doctor? Does Rose and Roxy’s mother have a doctorate? Anyway, Bro said their mother had a strange book. Did he say it was red? Could it be Aradia's book? Rose goes on to mention the book's relation to the disks and echoes your thoughts about all three instances being the same book. When Karkat brings up how that would be temporally impossible, you, Rose, Kanaya, and Mituna share a strange sense of strongly feeling that it is possible somehow. The conversation turns to theorizing on that but you're only half-listening now because your eyes have caught something in the background of the video that you hadn't noticed while it was running. Jade has a photo of a frog temple in her room, but it isn't the one you and Aradia were exploring. You have a hunch. It feels like more than a hunch if you're being honest, but you can't seem to think about it too closely or in too much detail before it gets fuzzy and scattered in your sponge. You need another pan to work through this with and only one will do.

You pull yourself up by your psy-onics and start floating to the door before stopping in your tracks to turn around. “Going to-- to get Roxy.”

“Finally, he learns the mystical art of telling people where the fuck he’s going!” Karkat shouts while throwing up his arms.

“Considering the mysterious nature of its arrival and enclosed suggestion of relevance, perhaps you could also retrieve the book that was left to you,” Rose says in what is likely careful wording. You give her a nod and turn to resume leaving. To your surprise, no one stops you.

Technically you could go through the main entrance of your dorm, but you don't feel like being bothered with that and its possible repercussions. Instead, you simply fly over to Roxy's window and-- holy shit maybe knocking is a thing you do need to learn after all. You're somewhat stunned like an antler beast in scuttlebuggy night viewing lights. Roxy is in only a towel and pawing through her dresser which means very shortly she will no longer be in a towel. You really need to knock on this glass before she sees you and gets the wrong idea. By some grace, you manage it.

Roxy jumps and turns to glare daggers in your direction. You give a lazy wave and point at the lock. Her look of murder quickly shifts to mischief and you respond by letting your head roll to one side and raising an eyebrow as if to say “Really?”, but her smile only widens. Things go in a slightly different direction than anticipated. If you weren't such a grab bag of mixed and volatile emotions then this would be quite the day for you. Roxy goes back to what she was doing, although somehow you doubt she normally dresses in such a lackadaisical way. She keeps it classy for the most part. Thanks to an oversized sweatshirt (that might actually be yours) it’s nothing too scandalous. You’ve probably seen worse in an R-rated movie. Yeah, she’s giving you a little peepshow, but what’s really happening here is that she’s trying to aggravate you by making you wait as long as possible for her to open the window. Finally, she saunters over to let you in. Muscle memory takes over as you enter her room and it nearly has you with a face full of floor.

“Graceful,” She comments playfully while letting you hold onto her arms for support. You can stand on your own, and you're pretty sure that you could walk unassisted if you really needed to, but even with all the physical therapy they make you do, you just don't have the strength that you used to. You need to change that. Dave needs you to change that.

“Tch.” It’s all you have to come back with and that’s sad as hell. You’re a shitty rival and a terrible kismesis. She shifts your arms up higher to hang on to her shoulders instead. You want to look at her but shame keeps your head down.

“Hey, Sol, look up a sec.” You do and she tilts your chin up a little higher, then to the one side. “Did you tell him not to leave marks or is Gamzee just the perfect gentleman?”

“WHAT!?” You are aghast, initially unsure how else to respond. She didn’t really accuse you of anything. She just seems to know something you haven't told anyone and didn't intend to tell anyone. “How'd you know?” She made light of it, but you still tread lightly.

“He messaged me this morning. Didn’t want me getting the wrong idea if I heard it from someone else." You relax. However, there is something in her voice that you can't quite place and it gives you pause for concern. She isn't mad at you, it's not that, she's... you aren't sure. Something in her voice just doesn't sound right. "So I'm guessing Karkat knows then if he was trying to stay on my good side." She gives a light laugh but it's missing something. You nod and hope she continues because you're unsure of where to take this conversation without abruptly changing the subject. "I was kidding, but wow, that must've been something."

"He put Kk on-- on the, the hunger trunk. Time out," You say as Roxy starts taking slow steps backward, tugging you with her. You try not to let on just how much effort it takes to keep from leaning your weight on her. It's only a short distance to her bed, so you power through it.

"Not to gloss over how hilarious that sounds, but I think that's the longest sentence we've gotten out of you yet." It was pretty chopped up but you think she might be right.

"Yeah, maybe." You can still feel a strange tension hanging between you and Roxy when the two of you take a seat. It may have even gotten worse.

"Look," Oh no, you're having a talk. "I'm not mad or anything." You ease a bit knowing that for certain upfront. "Gamzee said you went over there to get away from yourself and things just got like they did that other time," Geez, how much did Gamzee tell her? "I get it. Like, I know quadrants are more clear for you and I know that wasn't why you went over there, but part of me is still all, 'damn, I would have railed you if you asked', because... I don't know." She shrugs fully with both arms and lets them fall to her sides. She puts up with so much of your hoofbeastshit.

"Sthorry. If you want to--"

"Don't you fuckin dare," Roxy interrupts with a frustrated exhale before you can even finish offering to take another break. "I know what I signed up for. We don't have to go through this every time your brain breaks. God, how are you so fucking smart and such a dumbass at the same time?" There is affection in the insult beneath the way she's getting irritated.

"It's a gift," you say with a shrug.

"Yeah, well, I hope you got a receipt." The comeback has a small smile pricking the corner of her mouth. You miss that. She's cute when she's insulting you.

"All sthsalesth final." You royally fucked that up but it wasn't as hard to say. The more your pan clears and the more reason you have to speak, the less words get lost on their way to your mouth.

"Hey, look at that." There's a full smile on her face now as she reaches out and pins the corner of your mouth with her finger. "Now if we could just get that a little bit higher" she holds out the 'i' in 'little' while trying to literally put a smirk on your face. You roll your eyes at her and she lets go. "So, I'm gonna take a wild guess that you didn't come here just to try catching a look at the goods. What's up?"

Any remnants of the grin she put on your face disappear for something more serious. Right, you came here for a reason. Ah fuck, like many things, you didn't think this through all the way. How do you explain?

"The video, and-- and it was." Your hands hang in the air. You remember this from last time. You're overwhelming yourself and it's making everything shut down.

"What video?" You look up at her with wide eyes and watch it click in her mind. "No way, Jade got it exported?" You nod. Roxy drops her phone out of her sylladex and starts navigating to wherever Jade put the video. "She was having trouble with the file format this morning. God, how did she even figure out I meant VLC media player?" VLC is apparently a universal constant and will play anything. The Alternian and Earth versions merged seamlessly. You try not to listen too closely while she watches it but it's hard not to cling to the sound of Dave's voice.

"So it really is a game. All I was going off of was the name and Bro's letter saying Betty Crocker was stealing Skaianet stuff. I figured since FLARP is distributed by her and there was some kind of co-op thing with the discs, maybe Skaianet was trying to edge in on her turf or something." Betty Crocker is the company that puts out FLARP? You furrow your brows. Roxy is too deep in thought to notice. "Guess my mom wasn't kidding about that armageddon business either. If meteors are going to blow us up, 'cause if she knew then it has to be meteors, but if that's gonna happen, why wouldn't she say anything?" Roxy flops back on the bed. You take the opportunity to float her phone over and scrub the video until you find a frame that shows that picture you saw. Roxy is already sitting back up and leaning over to see what you're doing when you hand the phone to her and point it out.

"Frog temple." It's all you can manage out of the fuzzy thoughts surrounding what you want to say.

"Yeah, it's one of the ruins on Jade's island. What about it?" Jeez, okay, this isn't going to be easy.

" Mituna he sth-saw, your mom. Good with puzzles. Glyphs were puzzle. The book. Aradia's note. " It's coming out in spaced out fragments but you're trying to keep them interpretable to both Roxy as well as yourself. Why is this train of thought so hard to reach? "Cold wet stone." It hits you, the words like a trigger. You grab your head and screw your eyes shut. No, you're not done talking yet. "Air tastes funny. Dark. Glowing, red and blue. Who's there?" You're hunched over, hands in your hair, claws pressing into your scalp, trying to spit words out as pieces of memories yet to happen flit through your pan. "Labs. Machines. Screens." The world comes back into focus around you. You're panting and the taste of blood is in your mouth. There's the sound of footsteps and then you're being pushed to sit up. Roxy hands you a cold damp washcloth and motions for you to hold it against your mouth.

"You clipped your lip pretty good but it doesn't look like you clawed yourself up too bad." She says as she pushes your hair this way and that way. "Huh, maybe you do have a speck of self-preservation instinct after all."

"Did," you can already feel the warm throb where your lip is split. "Did that get through?" you ask as you try to disperse the lingering fog from your pan with several rapid blinks. It doesn't seem to want to go away and that has you wondering if the clearer feeling is a remnant of the vision. Is your think sponge still that scrambled up?

"You said a bunch of stuff that wasn't super connected but it sounded like my mom might have something to do with these glyphs which means they have something to do with a lot of things." You nod.

"Need the book. You too. Othersthrs-- oths--, others are waiting." You ditch the washcloth and drop the stick based mobility aids from your sylladex.

"I would say maybe lie down for a sec, but I know you aren't going to." Roxy is already holding out her arms for you to grab and pull yourself up with as she says this. You get to your feet and situate your arms through the cuffs, set to start moving when Roxy comes back around with the cloth you discarded. "At least wipe the blood off your face, babe." You're anxious to get going before you lose your steam and you'll hard pass on letting her do that for you.

"Later," you say while attempting to brush past her but mostly succeeding in nearly tripping over yourself. She moves out of the way, letting you carry on down the hall to Dave's room at a pace you don't think you've achieved yet. You're nervous but if you can just keep channeling that into energy, you'll be good.

The door pops open with a familiar metallic sound and you brace for the assault on your senses as you barrel into the room, trying to keep your eyes off everything but your goal for being here. After a few hurried glances around the room, you spot the book, with Aradia's letter neatly tucked inside, on Dave's desk. You step toward it at a slower pace than you've been going and for a moment you don't do anything except stare at it. Then, after a steadying breath, you captchalog it. Done. You did it. Now you just need to get Roxy and head back to--

You catch something red out of the corner of your eye. Neatly folded in a cardboard box full of Dave's clothes is his hoodie, the one with his record logo on the back, the one that he cut horn holes into the hood just for you. You don't dare actually touch it, instead picking it up with your psy-onics.

"You know that's gonna fuck you up, right?" Roxy's voice feels like it comes out of nowhere and breaks whatever trance you were starting to spiral into. You look to where she's leaning against the door frame and then back to Dave's hoodie before captchalogging it too.

"Yeah."

"Let's get out of here. Dirk's almost back."

"Huh?" You follow Roxy out and down the hall. She looks over her shoulder and slows down to match your pace.

"He went to get food." Hmm, you should probably bring him too. You wonder if it's wise to fly two extra people in your current state.

"Should bring you both."

"You said something about that before. Something about others waiting?"

"My hive." Roxy walks ahead to hit the button for the elevator so that, by the time you get there, she's holding open the door for you.

"Dirk can drive us there. He brought his car back up this morning. You should have seen the nigh unintelligible rant I got from him a couple days ago when he couldn't get it to fit in his sylladex." You settle back against the wall and Roxy comes to join you, standing close enough that your shoulders brush. "If you say pretty please, maybe I'll sit next to you and share my fries." You look at her sidelong and don't fight the way the corner of your mouth ticks up, knowing that playful look on her face means she really is going to make you say pretty please.

There's still that pang in your chest, that sense of betrayal whenever you make progress that has you feeling as though you're spitting on Dave's memory, as if by improving it means that you didn't really pity him because if you really pitied him then you would still be lying in a hospital bed. It's hard to shake, but you remind yourself that it isn't true. You do pity Dave, you pity him so much, and he isn't a memory. He's alive and he's waiting for you. He needs you. You don't have to "get better", this isn't "better", it's getting your strength back. Dave needs you to get your strength back so you can figure this all out and bring him home. He wouldn't want you to be miserable either, you know that. You know he wouldn't judge you for getting a shred of enjoyment out of being near Roxy. He wouldn't judge you for enjoying anything. It still hangs heavy in your chest. It sits right next to the weight of how much you don't deserve Roxy. Of how awful this has all been for her. You can see it beneath the surface of her expressions; exhaustion, frustration, loneliness. Your sponge says you shouldn't, that it's bad, that you're bad for even thinking about remotely feeling good about something, and yet, you find yourself wanting to kiss her. A fully sober desire devoid of desperation or ulterior motive; a simple want. She scoots a little closer and you want to a little more even as guilt makes your gut churn.

"You should take a picture if you're gonna keep staring at me like-- umph." She kisses you back, first gently but then so much harder. Her arms wrap around your shoulders and you bring yours up to circle her waist with no regard for the crutches that clatter to the floor. She pours herself into the kiss. She lets you read her with full clarity, trusting you with knowing how much she's missed you, how much she still misses you, how much she needs you. When you break for air, she rests her forehead against yours. You nudge her nose and she takes your lips one more time just as the elevator doors are opening.

"Sollux, we really need to stop meeting like this," says a hoarse voice from behind your quadrentmate. She pulls away while discretely wiping her mouth with her thumb, and reveals Dirk standing in the doorway with a drink tray in one hand and two bags of McDonald's in the other. "Good to see you're feeling better." The comment is directed at you. It stings something terrible and Dirk must be able to see that because he continues. "I mean that. Dave would think so too." You aren’t sure why, but you feel oddly inclined to believe him.

# ==> Be Dave for a moment.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding.” You look up to see Rose carefully slipping through the darkroom door so as to let in as little light as possible, even though the connecting room is fairly dark.

“Uh, yeah, I guess. I mean, I wasn’t hiding.” You were. You've been in here since you panicked and ran away from Jade. There is no way Rose didn’t see through that response, especially if Jade told her what happened. You set down the stuff you were idly working on and lean against the counter behind you. Rose does the same on the opposite side of the small room, putting the work table between you like a cliché metaphor. 

“I’m only taking a short nap, and much of my time was lost seeking you out, so I must be more blunt than I would ideally care to be.” She pauses, possibly for dramatic reasons, but probably to collect her words. “I’m concerned that your emotional state is deteriorating the longer you are isolated here.” She wasn’t kidding about being blunt. You freeze up. She’s on the fucking money and being exposed like that invokes a deep-seated sort of fear in you. It’s an old fear, one that was sometimes quite literally beaten into you. You try to keep it steady but you’re worried she can see that too. “Dave.” She says your name softly both as an invitation and a reassurance. You get that, you understand, but it has the opposite effect. It means you’ve taken too long to respond and now your cover is blown. “I know there isn’t much you can do right now. Waiting with so much uncertainty would wear anyone thin.”

“It sucks. It really fucking sucks.” You can tell her that much. There is so much more though. All this shit has been hanging around the fringes of your mind for a while now but it’s starting to work its way to the forefront more and more often.

“It is a lot to ask and easier said than done, but try not to worry. Jade sent us the video today. I think we’re about to make a lot of progress.” This heart to heart is too raw for you. You know it’s because she’s worried and time is short, but you really wish she waited so you could play that game where you both hide behind insincerity and double sarcasm. “We’ll get you home soon, Dave.”

“Will you though?” The question flies out of your mouth before you can think better of it. Rose stares at you, patiently waiting for the rest of your thought that you're now committed to. “Cause, because I’ve been thinking about that. Everything we know about this game, which really isn’t much beyond a handful of out of context Ikea style game tips, equally out of context cloud visions, and Jade knowing that we all get obliterated if we don’t play it, but even with everything we know..." your sentence trails having lost where you were going with it. “My point is,” You look away to keep your composure from slipping. “I haven’t seen a damn thing that says I get to go back. How would that even work? Just show up to the government like ‘oh yeah, nah, I got better’? What if this is it? What if you all play the game and then I’m still stuck here?” You finally look at her again, hoping she has answers for you, but knowing that there’s no way she does. All she can do is offer you empty reassurances. Or at least, she could have. You see the beginning of a sentence forming on her lips but it never falls. She wakes up and you’re alone again.

# ==> Sollux: Reconvene at your hive.

“Alright, are we all settled?” Dirk asks from the front of your communal entertainment area where he is sitting backwards in a chair pilfered from your nutrition block. You're sandwiched between Kanaya and Karkat again, but Rose is now sitting on the smaller lounge plank (formerly occupied by assorted stuff) with Roxy. Mituna and Latula are sitting on the other side having brought out the splay sacs from Mituna’s room. Then on Karkat’s husktop, you have a video chat going with Jade and Jake. Terezi was invited too but didn’t respond. There’s a murmur of agreement before Dirk continues leading a recap of the newly acquired info, including both you and your littermate's recent aftershocks. You’re paying pretty good attention until Roxy brings up the mess of code that is the disks on your husktop. She’s going on about how degraded they are. The only thing intact seems to be the co-op disks and even those have an issue. They may not be corrupted like the other disks but she thinks disk 1 is missing a chunk of data from the beginning of it, possibly having been overwritten unintentionally since there isn’t any space to spare. The group starts bouncing around some ideas but your focus is on the wall of code in front of you. Honestly, you haven’t really taken a good look at these yet.

“Mituna,” you say, motioning him over when he turns to look at you. You angle the husktop so he can better see it. “Start wandows ng-madly?” Several exclamations of ‘what?’ echo in the room, but Mituna understands what you mean and takes a closer look. He quickly scrolls through the text, fast enough that some people might think he’s not reading it. You know he is though.

“Yeah.” He nods enthusiastically and opens up a different file, then reads through that one too. “Same.”

“Exact same?” you ask. He nods.

“Care to enlighten us?” Dirk asks. You look up to see all eyes on you.

“Bit flipped,” You say. Roxy comes over and takes a look for herself while Mituna points out different places in the code. Having done your part, you lean back and sink into Karkat’s side, letting Roxy pick up the task of giving everyone the low-down on what exactly this means. It’s not a difficult concept to explain, ASCII text has corresponding binary that calculates each letter. If that gets corrupted and one of the bits becomes a 1 instead of a 0 (or vice versa), it changes the character. The key detail here being that it’s a very consistent error. Roxy highlights that the earlier disks look like someone was in the process of trying to fix this and that some of the disks are really just flat out corrupted files that don’t open or do open but are pure garbage. Additionally, it gets her thinking that it’s more than just bit flipping on a single character basis. If you apply the same idea to the code itself, it lines up with why some of the blocks of ~ATH don’t make sense being where they are, like they're misaligned. Her idea feels familiar.

“Alright, we’ll mark that as extremely plausible and shelve it for now,” Karkat thankfully interjects when the discussion starts to get circular. “What about the book and Jade’s frog temple? It looks just like the one near the village where the Megidos used to live.” There is a slight pause where Karkat’s attention splits. It’s barely noticeable, just like the way he squeezes your shoulder. You wouldn’t say it’s okay, but you were prepared for it. You knew that this conversation was going to bring up Aradia a lot. “Maybe it’s just me but I think it’s pretty fucking suspicious that this mysterious Harley guy had access to the other set of glyphs. The ruins do have glyphs right?”

[“They do!”] Jade’s voice comes through the shoddy laptop speakers with a bit of static. [“I had a reminder to check the ruins this morning and was able to distract Bec long enough to get further into the temple than I ever have before. It turns out that the glyphs at the entrance only scratch the surface. There’s another chamber below it with tons more glyphs and these ones glow!”] A little icon pops up on the screen before Jade’s window switches to view her desktop where she flips through several hi-rez photos of said glyphs.

“Green?” Roxy says with the same amount of confusion you were thinking.

[“Yup. Should they not be?”]

“I thought they’d be red or blue. Sollux said something about that in his vision, aftershock, whatever.” Roxy turns to direct her next question at you. “What color are the glyphs at the other temple?” You slowly shake your head; they’re not. If they should be, it brings to mind a theory that Aradia had about the temple. Crap, how could you condense that enough to explain?

“I’m not sure if anyone else besides Sollux and I have been there,” Kanaya starts. “but I can attest to the glyphs being colorless. They are plain carvings on the walls.” You forgot Kanaya had been there before. Aradia did share her theories with any unfortunate soul that happened to wander within earshot, so maybe there is a chance you won’t have to explain it yourself.

[“There’s no stone circle thing that goes down to a chamber with glowy tablets on the walls?”] Jade asks.

“There is a stone circle, or at least most of one, but it is simply a border surrounding a hole. I’ve never been down there but I’ve been told that the glyphs below are much the same as the ones above ground.” Kanaya’s face tightens as she tries to recall anything else that might be relevant. You hope for about half a second before she lightly shakes her head having come up with nothing. Well, you guess it’s up to you.

“Aradia,” your hands hang in the air as you try to line up your thoughts into words. “She had a theory.” You don’t need to look up to know everyone is looking at you, waiting for you to spit it out like a newly bipedal wiggler. Gog, things are so much clearer than before, but your sponge is still so fucked up. “It was..." Okay, break it down. Strip away everything that’s not essential. No preface. Just the bare minimum. “Fake.” Too vague. You shake your head to signal that that wasn’t right and you’re trying again. “Temple wastha replica. too, too new.” You let out a breath. You don’t know how Mituna puts up with this shit. You glance up, catching motion in your peripheral, to see him giving you a double thumbs up. There is some comfort in that, in knowing that someone else knows you aren’t stupid, just overwhelmed.

["Does that matter? If it's a replica, shouldn't it all be the same?"] Jake asks. He isn't wrong necessarily but the margin for transcription error is huge and the glowing seems important. Rose wastes no time explaining that as well as getting into the intrinsic magical properties of glowing artifacts.

Something about this still doesn’t feel right. You stare at the book Aradia wanted to make sure you would have. You haven’t actually opened it yet. Maybe there is something more in there than just your notes. Hesitantly you sit up and reach out to pick it up off the coffee table. For a moment you simply hold it before getting up the nerve to flip to the back where she’s re-written all of the notes you both made, but it’s all the same stuff you’ve seen before.

Wait a second. You stare harder at her writing. Your color vision isn’t the worst, but it isn’t great either. You think though that not all of her writing is in the same shade of red. You close your blue eye and sure enough, after your glasses filter most of the red out, a long string of letters and numbers faintly stares back at you. Oh boy. You make a disgruntled noise that catches several people’s attention and stops whatever conversation you weren’t paying attention to. You pass the book to Karkat and hand him your glasses. 

“Red side only.”

“Okay, I know I’m looking at a secret message here, but what the fuck is it?” he asks.

“Alternian coordinates.” You look to the side and away before you can stop yourself. It’s a habit Karkat is familiar with.

“You’re leaving something out. You know what these are, don’t you?” his voice is far too loud for how close he is. “Sollux..." he warns, now turning to completely face you. “What did you do?” You sigh deeply because there’s no way around it.

“I know where Feff is.”

“You WHAT?!?!” he shouts.

“Sthshe’s hiding on," Come on, you just got five words out in one go. That was just one more. Now it's one less. "on the pink moon.”

“Again, anyone care to enlighten the group?” Dirk asks with a broad gesture to you all. Kanaya takes up the task.

“A friend of ours is a fuschia blood. They are few and far between and generally do not live very far into adulthood before being culled by Her Imperious Condescension. She was hiding on earth for some time but feared that she was too far away from her lusus, who is a danger to all of troll kind should she ever speak above a whisper or release the vast glub.” Feferi said she had gotten much better at calming Gl'bgolyb at a distance but it would be easier and safer for her to go back.

“Peixes, right?” Roxy asks. “Both of them had entirely blank records.”

“They shouldn’t even have a record. Meenah and Feferi weren’t on earth as grubs. But more importantly, Sollux, why do you know where she is?” Karkat says accusatorily, unfortunately swaying the subject back to you.

“Eridan.” You need only mention his name for Karkat to piece it together.

“You didn’t. You did not do something that stupid. Tell me you did not set up a connection for that bottom-feeding narcissist.” Just because it’s incredibly difficult, generally ill-advised, very much illegal, and has insane latency issues doesn’t mean you don’t know how to ping a computer on an Alternian network. In fact, those parameters pretty much guarantee that you know how to do that.

“For Feff, not him.” You scoff at the idea of doing anything for Eridan. Feferi on the other hand... Maybe once upon a time, you might have had a soft spot for her, so it’s possible that you made sure she could still talk to her moirail even if you think he’s awful, and there may have been some ulterior motive there that she might dump his ass eventually if they stayed in contact. But that was a long time ago.

“Oh my gog.” Karkat laments. “You know that’s a felony right? Making an unauthorized connection to the empire is a fucking felony. Not only that, you contacted a fuschia blood! That’s a cullable offense!” You shrug indifferently. A long exaggerated sigh comes out of your best friend. “You give me nutritional chuteburn.” That’s Karkat’s way of saying he worries about you. He won’t stay mad. He’s probably already over it considering the current circumstances.

“So, these coordinates are for Alternia’s pink moon?” Dirk asks. You nod. “And you have the ability to contact someone there?” Again, you nod. He steeples his fingers in thought and silence briefly falls over the room. “Okay, show of hands. Who thinks that there’s a temple on that moon with glowing glyphs and if we use that set of glyphs in conjunction with Jade’s that we’ll get the unfucked code for these disks?” You all look at each other and one by one hands start going up.

[“Golly, this all sounds complicated.”] Jake chimes in from what sounds like a crowded airport. [“To think all this fuss is over a game.”]

“A game that has been implied to stop the end of the world.” Dirk reminds him. “And we don’t have much time to figure out how these glyphs work with each other.” You can hear the strain starting to creep into his voice from talking at length. Despite that, he continues. “Not to mention, we still don’t know where the two co-op disks came from beyond Mister Harley or why only those two are intact.”

“Three.” All eyes turn to Mituna who acquired a bag of sour cream and onion chips at some point and is funneling the broken bottom of the bag pieces into his open mouth.

“Excuse me?” Dirk prompts when he doesn’t elaborate.

“In my vision. The old guy had three disks.” He holds up three prongs for emphasis before licking the crumbs off of them.

"Hopefully it becomes irrelevant, but we might need to loop in the girls' m--"

“An array of disks,” Roxy says, interrupting Dirk in a moment of realization, although one that she looks less than pleased about. “My mother called them an _ARRAY_ of disks. Arrays start at zero. That’s why disk 1 looks like it’s missing the first part; it’s not the first disk.” She turns to communicate something private to Rose via expression alone. “It figures she would be cryptic like that. I guess though, if these disks aren’t affected by what’s messing the others up, they could be useful in figuring out how to parse the glyphs.”

[“Hmm, Jade, is that why you told me to bring Grandpa’s old badge? Is that what I’m supposed to help Roxy with?”]

[“I think so, that doesn’t sound wrong.”] Dirk looks at the computer screen with suspicion given how chipper and innocently Jade answered Jake. You think he's thinking that Jade knew this all along.

“Welp, guess we’re breaking into Skaianet Systems,” Roxy says in a this-might-as-well-happen tone of voice. The conversation turns to planning out just how Roxy and Jake will achieve this, and with your input no longer needed, your attention starts to wane. You only keep listening for a few more minutes before you let your eyes fall shut and the din of voices fades into the background. It’s been a long day; you’re tired.

Karkat jostles you sometime later and you look up to see that people are starting to leave. He tells you that you did really well today and suggests that maybe you should go to coon. You wholeheartedly agree. You will totally leave the task of seeing everyone out to be someone else’s problem. Groggy as you are, you remember to actually use your legs to propel yourself down the hallway. It’s slow going, but it’s getting easier.

By the time you reach your room, you’re eager to get unconscious. Dave isn’t there every time you sleep, but he is there often, and you’re hoping to see him tonight. Knowing that he really is there, maybe that could make a difference. You peel off your layers in preparation to sink into the slime, and go to get your palmhusk out so you can put it on the charger. It's then that you remember Dave's hoodie is in your sylladex. You...you really shouldn’t, but... Despite knowing how much it might hurt, you can’t help wrapping yourself up in it. His scent still clings to the fabric. There’s no way you can peel yourself out of it now, so you forego your recuperacoon and climb into your sleeping platform instead.

As you lie there, curled up in a ball with your face buried in his sleeves, part of you is distraught, but you keep reminding yourself that he’s not dead, not really. He’s just someplace else. Any minute he’ll be sitting beside you in that other place. It occurs to you then why he’s always on your left. Jade’s tower was her room. Yours must be too. He’s always on your left because your bed is against a wall on the right. You had wondered about that more than once. You had thought there might be some special reason for it. Nope, your bed is just against a wall. It’s so dumb. Dave would probably find that funny. You could almost picture him sitting beside you laughing.

You hold onto that image, not a continuous loop of him laughing, just him beside you like he has been so many times before. You cradle it close as you start to fall asleep wrapped in his scent. Then, somewhere in the groggy space where awake and asleep cross paths, you start to hear him. At first, it feels so far away, the sound of speech but without words. You try to slip further under without letting go, straining to hear him clearly while simultaneously attempting to let yourself drift. You picture your room and Dave beside you, telling yourself that he’s close, that you can hear him. Slowly, you start to. He says your name. You can’t make out the rest but you’re so close. You can’t give up. He’s so close. You breathe in slowly, trying to convince yourself that you’re on Derse with him instead of the other way around. There’s pressure on your shoulder. It feels so real that you roll onto your back. He says your name again but somethings wrong. The realization almost wakes you up and it takes a moment before you can hear him again and feel his hand on your shoulder. He’s shaking you, he’s trying to wake you up.

Your consciousness dips lower and the world slips away from you, leaving you swimming in half-formed thoughts and blurry shapes. When your thinksponge starts sending you feedback again it’s the feeling of weight on your chest and a whispered plea that makes your pusher ache with pity. He’s so sad. You can feel the way Dave’s shoulders heave and you don’t even think about how there’s no way he could hear you chirp before doing it. The sobs falter and you hear your name again. You want to open your eyes and hold him and tell him it’s okay, whatever’s wrong, it’s okay, but your pan is murky and it’s hard to think an entire thought. You aren’t even sure where you are; you simply are. Everything just is, and your sponge doesn’t question it.

You chirp at your moirail again and loll your head to the side in an attempt to nuzzle the face that you were sure was here a second ago. Wait, there it is. You shoosh him softly, lips brushing against his temple, and he holds you tighter. Why are your arms so heavy? You want to-- what was it? What did you want to do? Dave says something. You aren’t sure what it is, but his voice is high and wavery, and your sponge reloads the ‘Dave is sad’ response again. You try shooshing him but forget what you’re doing halfway through and start purring instead. You feel him shift against you, curling up against your side. Did he say he misses you? But you’re right here. You think about moving your arms around him again, but they’re so heavy and the thought dissolves before you can try. He looks so sad. Why aren't you holding him? You don’t want him to be sad. That makes you sad. You chirp at him again. Why is he sad? He picks up his head and you must not have your glasses on because everything is blurry. Is it always this blurry without your glasses? You can barely make out his face. It doesn't matter. You don't need to see it clearly. It's Dave's face, your moirail's face, so close to yours now as he looks into your eyes. He wants you to wake up but you still have plenty of time, class isn’t for hours yet. Your eyes, thin barely open slits, slip closed and you forget what you’re doing. What was it? What were you just thinking then? It’s fine, it can wait until morning. You shift to get cozy again. Right now Dave is here and he’s close, wrapped up safe in your arms, and that’s all that matters.

# ==> Be the other half of this diamond.

He's moved in his sleep before, tossing and turning, or sometimes curling his fingers into the fabric of your shirt when you're close enough, and he's even opened his eyes just a crack (enough to think he was seeing things apparently), but he's never responded like he did tonight. He wasn't awake, not all the way, but he knew you were having a bad time. Somehow he got an edge and held on as best he could to console you. God, did you need it. It's been a couple of hours now. He stopped purring some time ago and his arms have long since gone slack around you but you're not inclined to move. Leaving the remnant of his embrace would mean acknowledging that the moment is over.

"You're not going to believe the shit I found," Hal says as he floats into Sollux's room. You glance over your shoulder to see him wander into your field of vision like it’s no big deal that you’re tangled up with Sollux. Then again, it isn’t the first time. Although, usually you aren’t quite this close. "While I was exploring the inside of Derse, I noticed a large space that was unoccupied. It wasn't strange enough to strike me as a concern, so I initially ignored it. After running some calculations, however, I was 98 point 76 percent more suspicious. There was a consistently higher influx of mid-sized Carapacians in a particular section of corridor and upon examination, that section of corridor has slightly different brickwork." Hal sounds excited and this seems like it could be important, so reluctantly, you pull yourself away from Sollux and sit up.

"You reckon someone sealed off this place, huh?"

"I do reckon. People don't seal off random rooms for no reason, Dave. There is something important in there. My attempts to locate an alternate route were fruitless, so we will have to resort to more extreme measures."

"You want me to take a wack at it," you say as you stand up and stretch your arms. It's more of a statement than a question.

"Yes. There is a chance upwards of 87 percent that I have correctly identified the section of wall with the least structural integrity."

You go along with it. It can’t hurt to check it out and it’s not like you have anything better to do. Hal wants to set out right away but you talk him into stopping for some coffee first. After all, it's not like you don't have the time. It turns out to be lucky you did though because on your way down to Derse you notice that Roxy got loose again and you have to make a pit stop to bring her back to her tower. She's been doing that a lot lately. Dirk has her anchored to her bed by a scarf but she manages to get out somehow every now and then. It worries you a bit. You haven't hit a flight limit yet on Derse like you did on Prossspit. You went up as high as you could before down was starting to not feel like down. You figure the difference probably has something to do with the planet Prossspit orbits. Maybe it doesn't want y'all messing with it so the entire area is locked out until the game starts. Whatever the reason, launching yourself into the void isn't on your to-do list and you can use the transportalizer to get to Prossspit so you don't see the need to over-analyze it.

Once you've re-tethered your cousin, you follow Hal down into the labyrinth that is the subterranean levels of Derse. The series of turns and staircases you take is familiar at first, but it isn't long before you're relying on him to not get lost. Not in the hopeless sense, you’re pretty sure you could find your way back if you just stuck to the wall, but it would be annoying. Hal comes to a stop just before a turn and tells you to wait there while he checks that the coast is clear as if you aren’t about to make lots of noise and a permanent structural change. You humor him and wait for him to call you down.

“I see what you mean. It could pass as legit,” you say as you stare at the wall in front of you. It looks like it should be a circular open area enclosed by pillars and archways instead of a hallway that doubles as a roundabout. “So where’s the weak spot?”

“There are four cardinal archways that are larger. Those will be easier to break through,” Hal says as he leads you around to one of the sides. “This one looks the weakest. He floats lower to where one of the bricks has cracked and the surrounding mortar has crumbled.

“Not the best target, but not the worst.” You take a couple of steps back, roll your shoulders a few times, and assume a familiar stance before launching forward. “Son of a fuck!” The wall breaks, but so does your sword. You stare at the floor with your hands to your ears and move your jaw around in hopes of making the ringing stop. You’ve broken far too many of these. Yeah, you have a decent one and you stole Bro’s really good one, but you’ve broken so many of these crap ones that you’re hesitant to use the nice ones for fear of breaking them too. Once your hearing is back to normal, you chuck the piece of shit half-blade in your sylladex and move on to checking out the secret room you’ve uncovered. “Oh shit, another set of those? Where do you think they go?” you ask Hal who is circling around the two transportalizer pads, eyeing them from every angle.

“Not a clue. Let’s find out.” It’s clear in Hal’s voice just how amped he is for this. You wander over to join him near the gold platform but just before you step on it he stops you. “Wait,” You look up at him questioningly. “If this doesn’t go to someplace that abides by magic balloon physics, I would appreciate not plummeting to my death.” A solid call.

“Valid.” You swap out your shades for Hal and step on the transportalizer but nothing happens.

“Hmm, weird. Do you feel that?” he asks.

“Feel what?”

“A slight feedback. Almost as if it’s trying to send us somewhere but something is in the way.” Hal must be more sensitive to it because you don’t feel a damn thing. “Nevermind, let's try the other one.” You nod in acknowledgment and cross the short distance to the purple platform. 

It works but fuck if you have any idea where you are. It’s dark, the air tastes funny, and there is a general feeling that everything is cold and damp. Hal’s night vision display comes up and attempts to focus but only gets so clear.

“My original infrared sensor leaves something to be desired. I’m afraid that is as good as it gets.” It’s weird how he sounds almost embarrassed, or like he is embarrassed and trying to cover it up. You didn’t know shame was programmable.

“Better than what I can see without it,” you comment as you look around. You’re in a small stone room that is empty save for the purple and gold transportalizer pads. There is only one exit, a simple rectangular opening, so you guess that's where you're going. Cautiously you make your way towards it. Your footsteps echo in the silence, although not as loudly as they could. You do have a reputation to uphold after all. The doorway leads to a plain-looking corridor that, after a few sharp right turns, you realize is a ramp ascending around the perimeter of the room you just came out of.

“There is some light up ahead,” Hal says before switching out of night vision view. It takes your eyes a moment to adjust, but yeah, that is light up ahead. More than one from the looks of it.

“Damn,” is all your brain can muster as you get closer. When you’re finally standing in the much larger chamber, staring up at the many gigantic obelisk-like slabs etched with glowing symbols, you’re almost too awestruck to comment...almost. “Well, shit, just call me Mister Anderson.” Hal makes an amused noise but the joke would have been better if the markings were green instead of red and blue. Sollux probably would have thought this was so cool if he was here to see it with you.

“These seem important,” Hal muses.

“What tipped you off to that?”

“The glowing mostly. I can’t float here so we’ll have to do this the hard way. It will be incredibly boring for you.” He instructs you to stand in front of each stone tablet one at a time so he can scan them, sometimes asking you to tilt your head a number of degrees that you have to take a wild guess on. He’s right. It is incredibly boring. To top it off, it takes a while, or at the very least it feels like it does. You try to make idle chatter while he does his thing, but Hal warns you upfront that he’s scanning at a very high resolution and also not simply snapping photos, so his response time may be slow. The way he says it sounds more like he _knows_ it will be slower rather than it only being a possibility. This outdated hardware thing really seems to bother him. You guess the difference is a lot more significant than you thought. It makes sense. Dirk wouldn’t go through the trouble of doing it if it wasn’t worth it. You make a mental note to mention this to him later and make sure he hasn’t forgotten about figuring out how to get Hal’s other self up and running again. It really sucks that none of you have figured out this only sometimes one-way connection business. Speaking of which...

"Hey, Hal?" you ask just as he's wrapping up the last red tablet. "How are you planning to send this to anyone?" You would think that with all that time, one of you would have thought of this sooner. He doesn't answer right away.

"We'll cross that bridge later. We have the data and that is better than not having it, even if our methods of transmitting it are limited."

"That's true I suppose." You walk back closer to the center of the room and lean against some kind of low half wall thing. You need to come back with your camera and get some pictures of this. At a distance it's mesmerizing. Your phone will have to do for now.

"Does the application you and Rose were using support--" Hal is cut off by a grinding stone-on-stone sound. Something above you is moving. You back the hell up because it's a big fucking something. The farther it comes down, the more light fills the room. It takes away from the impressiveness of the tablets, but you can better see everything else about the place. You wouldn’t say the room is basic, it’s more ornate than downstairs, but whoever made it wasn’t swayed at Temples‘R Us to spring for the deluxe model. When the big fucking something finally settles, you're left with a lot of questions because all this is, is a circular stone slab. Then again what’s one more bizarre occurrence? After you being half not dead, you're more inclined to just roll with the weird shit. At least it's clear what activated it. In the light, you can see that half wall thing you were leaning against is a control box. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Hal asks as you stare up into the ceiling hole, trying to gauge what's up there.

"I have no idea where we are, we didn't tell anyone where we were going, I just activated a hidden door with my ass in a magical temple, and there's no cell signal here."

"So we're going up there, right?"

"Of course we are."

# ==> Sollux: Wake up.

You wake up devastated and angry at yourself. It physically hurts. He was there, he was right there in your arms, but you couldn’t snap out of it. You couldn’t wake up. It felt like a dream.

Your palmhusk buzzes.

With a sigh, you pause your self-loathing to reach over to the nightstand and flick down the notification preview. Ugh, all that effort and it’s just an email. Wait a second. You push yourself to sit up and take a closer look. That’s not an ordinary email. That’s an email from a very specific account you have set up solely to forward messages to you from a very specific person. You get dressed because Feferi messaging you out of the blue for the first time in years right after talking about contacting her is a pants-on kind of matter. After backtracking to put a shirt on and stand in the middle of your room for twenty-two solid seconds debating whether or not to put Dave’s hoodie back on (you do), you make it out to the living room where you left your husktop last night and start processing the transmission.

“No fucking way.” You stare open-mouthed at your screen while the message slowly decrypts and loads an image row by row, dial-up style on your screen. It’s Feferi and she’s standing next to Dave. He's wearing the same weirdly formal purple getup that you saw him wearing in the video and is throwing up a diamond sign in that cocky pseudo-insincere way he hides genuine things. He has that cool kid smirk on his face, but beyond it, you can see actual relief which-- wait hold up, hold the fuck up, how did he get back?! He's far away as all hell, but it wouldn't be impossible to get there. Hard, yes; time-consuming, definitely; but not impossible.

A million scenarios run through your mind. You can’t take your eyes off the image. You stare at it for so long that by the time you remember that you need to blink, your eyes are dry and irritated. There is still a lot of time left on the progress bar (like a weirdly long amount of time, this message must be huge), but there is enough loaded that you can start to make out the next image and it’s just as much of a sucker punch. No wonder the decrypt time is measured in hours. Prefaced by the words “metadata to follow shortly, -Hal” are pictures of the glyphs. They’re blue and you’re willing to bet that once it loads, there is a red set too. You scroll back up to look at the photo of Dave and continue to sit there in shock for a good few minutes while the progress bar crawls. Eventually, you come to your senses. Whether you sit here or not, it’s still going to take hours. You need a plan, you need to map out what you’re going to do and then do it. In a few hours, you’ll have what you need to get started. Between now and then, you need to prepare.

The initial push isn’t easy but once you’re up, you don’t stop. You plug in your husktop and change the settings so it doesn’t sleep, then you go take a fucking shower because that’s the only way you’re going to be able to do anything. As expected, you feel infinitely more awake and capable by the time you step out. Basic things first. Brush your teeth, get dressed in clothes that you didn’t find on the floor, check the progress bar, put some coffee on, check the progress bar again. You should take your medication too. It dawns on you then, the hitch in your plans; outpatient. You check the progress bar again. Alright, it’s fine, it’s totally fine, it’s going to take a while anyway. You can just move your husktop to your room, go to therapy, and it might even be done by the time you get back.

You make it about halfway through group before you get to your feet and hobble out of the room. You then proceed to ignore several nurses and psionically relocate someone trying to stop you before calmly asking the receptionist to page your regular therapist. In a record-breaking amount of nearly complete and mostly understandable sentences, you tell him that you’re done with intensive outpatient and ready to step down to twice a week with him. He doesn’t lord it over you, but he does say that he had been waiting for you to realize that you could leave, that you weren’t being held involuntarily and were allowed to stop going to group whenever you wanted. You just had to want it and be able to express it. Apparently the request “shows you are having drives and opinions again”, as well as “displays an improvement in your autonomy and spatial awareness”, not to mention speech. You are not super fond of having your behavior predicted so well, in fact, it pisses you off. Your therapist being glad to see that you’re annoyed also pisses you off, but you don’t have to go to group anymore, so you’ll take the win. After a grueling one on one session, he even tells you to start taking your regular medications whenever you’re ready and gives you a script for your normal dose as well as a starter dose so you can ease back into it. After all, you wouldn’t want to trigger a manic episode just when you’re starting to get better now, would you? Your judgment of time is the shittiest it’s ever been but you’re pretty sure you have somewhere south of three weeks to get your shit together and save the world so of course, that’s what you’re going to do. Honestly, you feel like you might be heading in that direction anyway, so it’s more like you’re just making it happen on your own terms. Regardless, you know exactly which spikey-haired asshole will give you the least amount of flack for it.


	19. Chapter 37: Dave gets a fucking break already

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i tried y'all, i really tried to get to the game in this chapter, but after 24k+ words and being handed the most natural cut-off point, I decided to leave it for one more. That and, I really wanted to take my time writing the game entry.

# ==> Be Roxy.

"Hot dog, so this is Skaianet Systems," Jake says of the building in the distance as you trek along a familiar trail in the woods by your house. His voice is somewhat needlessly hushed down to a whisper no louder than the twigs snapping beneath your sneakers. "Your abode can't be too far off then."

"Not quite, Jaky boy. That _is_ my oh so humble abode." You brace for the usual awe that the complex you call a house generally inspires, but Jake just starts rambling about a waterfall that he used to visit and how it would have been so cool to live on top of it and how he should have built a small fort there because it would have been perfect. It's refreshing and eases the stress in your shoulders that you didn't realize you were carrying. You keep walking, hugging the tree line for a few more meters until you reach a very specific spot near the back corner of your house. "Okay, we're here," you whisper, again, pretty needlessly. Jake's face is plastered with anticipation. You'd think you were about to pull off some kind of big heist with how excited he looks. You half-smile and lightly shake your head as you drop your laptop out of your sylladex and hop onto your network's hidden network where the security cameras communicate.

"Did you get in?" he asks, coming around to peek over your shoulder.

"Duh, I know the password," you say it with humor in your voice and go on to re-explain how this particular spot in the woods is closest to a gap in the camera coverage while still being able to pick up the wifi. It's only important if your mother is in her lab. You don't want to run into her for obvious reasons, so you have to break into your own house. If she's in the lab (the one in the house, not Skaianet), she can't hear shit, so to make up for that, there is a wall of monitors that she may or may not be glancing at periodically but will definitely look at if you trip the motion sensor. The plan is to break into the house as if she _is_ in the lab, but once you're there, you proceed as if she is somewhere else in the house. You don't have a way of knowing for sure unless she happens to be in one of the hallways. You cross your fingers and take a look but it's no such luck. "I don't see her but we can check again once we're in my room."

"And if all else fails…" Jake says as he pulls a drinking glass out from his sylladex and holds it up triumphantly. "We do it the old fashioned way." You roll your eyes.

"Yeah yeah, come on mister low tech, stick close behind me."

Jake sings the mission impossible theme under his breath the whole way into the house. He ends his antics by striking a “charlie’s angels”-esque pose with an imaginary gun after tumbling gracelessly into your room via the same window you came through seconds earlier with more coordination. You check the camera’s but again, no such luck on knowing where your mother is. You look up to tell Jake as much but pause to watch him as he slowly walks around your room with a nostalgic grin on his face. For as long as you’ve known him, he’s only ever seen your room in bits and pieces through webcams. He ends his tour in front of your bookshelf and scrunches his face in mild disgust when his gaze catches your preserved cat in a jar.

“Gross, you and Dave with your penchant for dead things, I swear.” An incredulous look (complete with wide eyes and eyebrows raised to the max) takes over your face.

“Jake," you pause for emphasis. "Your grandfather is a permanent feature of your living room. You have zero room to talk.”

“Taxidermy is an art form and a long-standing family tradition," he says with a huff. "There is even one of my Grandpa’s first dog, Haley, in the old spooky part of the lab-- oh dear.” A look of dawning horror pales Jake’s face. He moves to take a seat beside you with a strange unsteadiness.

“You alright?” you ask. Jake worries himself in circles sometimes, you’ve seen that on him before but there is a sickened undercurrent to the way he’s looking off in thought.

“Yes, it’s just, you see we don’t go up there often. To be quite frank, the place gives me the heebie-jeebies. I was gearing up to take one for the team and have a gander right before those dreambot parts damn near took me out.” He pauses to fiddle with the collar of his shirt. “Last time I was up there I had nary a hair on my chin. I had thought she was fooling, trying to get a scare out of me, and was all sour that she’d spooked me like a horse right out of there. She didn’t know what I was talking about when I confronted her about it. Makes more sense now. It wasn’t Jade up there, not this Jade at least. Her dream-self is up there and my gut is telling me that that version of my sister has more in common with our Grandfather than I’d care her to.” Jake exhales a deep breath as he leans back on his hands. “That can’t be though.”

“You mean time-wise right?” you ask.

“Exactly. Another one of those time anomaly things like with the book. I bet my bottom dollar that anyone awake over there wouldn’t bat an eye if I told them.” When you all were at Sollux's hive, your friends that are awake talked about the book as if there was nothing odd about it being one and the same. They had a weird sense of certainty about it.

"Yeah, that was kind of strange wasn’t it?" You wonder when it’s your turn to wake up.

"Indeedy do." Jake stays quiet for a pointed beat before shifting the topic back to the task at hand. "Do you see her?" You welcome the change of subject and flip through the cameras again.

"Hm, looks like we're doing it the hard way." It was a slim chance you'd catch her in the hall but you were still hoping that you might get lucky.

"Wait wait, go back. One more. There! In the wizard orb." You squint at the statue Jake is excitedly pointing to. It's one of the freestanding wizards that litter the hallways of your house. This one, like many, is holding an orb, but it isn't one of the orbs that function as a lamp. It's metallic and reflective, and in just the right place to see into your mother’s study where she’s slouched in a chair, passed out, with a martini glass one slight shift away from falling out of her grasp.

“Figures,” you say low, almost under your breath. The sight of her completely wasted and unavailable to the world reminds you of why you opted to do this yourself, why you waited for a day you knew she wouldn’t be at Skaianet’s Lab, instead of just asking her. Despite what you say sometimes, you don't hate her, not really. It's more like you hate the things that she does or, oftentimes, doesn't do. Funny, she would probably say something similar about you. And Rose, she just gets lost in the mess. Yeah, you get all the wrong kinds of attention, but sometimes you swear that your mother forgets that she has two kids. When she does remember, it seems so insincere. Or something like that. It's complicated. “Come on, let’s get going," you say quietly.

You head to the other side of the house where your mother’s room is. It’s been a long time since you were last in there. You remember how you used to sit on her bed and watch her work, falling asleep to the sound of clacking keys on what was, at the time, a state of the art laptop. You didn't understand any of it. To you, it was practically magic. It was so cool. As you walk in, the scent of her perfume further complicates the strange cocktail of emotions stirring in your gut. It could almost pass for nostalgia but there's too much anger in it.

The place is less orderly than you would have thought. That's not to say it was ever spartan; there was always some clutter. Compared to the rest of the house, however, it's a mess. The off-center area rug taking up the middle-ish of the room and making it seem smaller than it is doesn't help. Her bed isn’t made by any stretch of the word, there are magazines on the floor, clothes draped over a muted pink high-back armchair, more clothes in a crumpled pile on the floor next to the chair in front of a white wooden vanity (that’s accented in a similar muted pink color) as if they were pushed aside, and of course, evidence of her drinking problem galore. An empty bottle of wine sits on her nightstand next to a glass, and another one is half rolled under her bed where you bet at least one more is hiding. Adjacent to it, on the same wall as the door, is what was probably a bookshelf at one point, but now contains a variety of expensive-looking liquors. You stride over to it and glance at all the labels before snatching up a fancy gin and chugging.

“Cheese and fucking crackers, Roxy,” Jake says when you slam the nearly empty glass bottle defiantly back on the shelf.

You look over your shoulder at him. “What?”

“That was an awful lot to be having at in a single go.” He’s serious but you play coy.

“Sounds like somebody’s a lightweight,” you laugh off the comment and make your way over to your mother’s closet, feeling more at ease with the situation now that a warm promise of solace burns in your throat. When you throw open the white wooden slat doors, you’re met with more disorganization. You wonder if your mother has an online shopping problem. The exception to the chaos is several immaculate lab coats in a few different styles, all quarantined on the far left of the closet. You paw through them and find one that looks unisex enough for Jake to wear, and something more feminine for yourself to help contrast it. “You ready to break into a high-security scientific facility?” you ask with a smirk. Jake mirrors it with one of his own. Excitement quickly renewing, you both hurry to get yourselves looking the part. It’s not like you’re strolling through the front door, but if someone sees you, it’s less likely they’ll notice anything unusual about it. Jake clips his grandfather's photo id badge onto the coat's lapel with a punctuated movement, conveying the action as a finishing touch. Even at vastly different ages, you can easily see the family resemblance between him and his grandfather. On an impulse, you Groogle this Jude guy.

“Wow, yeah, you guys are super related.” You hold out your phone to show Jake and he only just barely stops himself from letting out a long whistle.

“Golly, he could be my father.”

“More like your brother," You cut in quickly before Jake can wonder.

“Huh, the chap is only in his mid-thirties? Seems a little weathered. Then again I suppose keeping an entrepreneurial endeavor as gargantuan as Skaianet in tip-top shape doesn’t afford a fellow much sleep.” You side-eye Jake. The comment leads you to believe he either only skimed all the stuff Dirk organized from Bro's research or didn’t read it at all.

“That and, you know, what happened to him. Remember? It was one of the articles Bro clipped.” It was mixed in with a bunch of other stuff that Dirk thought was probably all tossed in there together during some kind of research elimination gauntlet fit.

“I'm afraid you've caught my hand in the pickle jar," he says while looking away from you and rubbing the back of his neck. "At the time I thought a lot of it was hooey and was not as thorough as I could have been.” He turns back to you sheepishly. “What happened to him?”

“His sister, your aunt I guess, disappeared under mysterious circumstances when he was a kid. They say it made him obsessive and a little neurotic, but he's brilliant nonetheless.” You aren’t sure, but you think he might have been the kid who used to babysit you and your sister when you were small. Rose loved to listen to his theories about cryptids and he let you both watch “The X-files” well before it was age-appropriate. If it was him, he was already a little off to begin with. Losing his sister probably didn’t help.

“Right, one of you guys made mention of him having some critics. Hard to deny results, though.”

“He makes it work somehow. Probably delegates a lot of stuff.” You look at the photo of Jude Harley and then back at Jake. “You know, if we mess up your hair a bit, maybe use a little makeup..." there’s a mischievousness creeping into your voice and that smirk back on your face.

"No no, no no no, you're not gussing me up like some show pony," he protests.

"Oh come on. It'll be fun. You can be all incognito like in those action spy movies." At the mention of action heroes, Jake’s tune changes to something much more contemplative.

"Well…" he says, drawing out the word while he looks to the ceiling and scratches his chin. "Alright, what the hay." You're quick to gently shove him into the vanity chair and get to work before he can change his mind. You know it's a complete waste of time and not necessary at all, but it's fun and as of late, you could use more of that. It even brings back some semi-fond memories of before you could legally drink. Painting up your face to look more like the fake id's you could get ahold of, hitch-hiking into town, getting tipsy off hard lemonade in the woods with the occasional cutie staying in one of the cabins a couple of miles away, and then when you went to that all-girls boarding school...that was an experience. Needless to say, you can contour like it's nobody's fuckin business. Jake gets to experience this first hand when he checks himself out in the mirror after you're done making him into a dead ringer for his uncle.

"Spot on or what?" you ask.

"That's amazing. I hardly recognize myself. You ladies can sure do some magical stuff with a bit of rouge." He stands up and runs his hands over the white lab coat a few times to smooth it out before lazily crossing the room. "So, this transportalizer doohickey, do you know where it might be- heeyurk!" the sound Jake makes as he hits the floor makes you burst out into poorly stifled laughter.

"My bad, sorry, sorry, are you alright?" you ask while still laughing. It's a good thing your mother is out cold. That gin is really starting to hit.

"Yep. Nothing damaged beyond my pride," Jake groans. However, the way he stays hunched over for a moment before awkwardly standing makes you think the family jewels took just as much of a hit as his pride. "You're over there with the libation-fueled giggle fits and I'm the doof tripping over his own feet."

"If it makes you feel any better, I think you found the transportalizer." You kick up the skewed edge of the rug to reveal a recessed section of the floor with a circular slab set into it. At this point, you know that Bro's letter wasn't full of shit but it's still strange somehow to see it proven to you.

#  ==> Roxy: Get to the lab.

The transportalizer does not go straight to the lab. You have to take a short walk down a few hallways first. This part of the facility doesn't see a lot of traffic but you aren't taking any chances. You tell Jake to pretend like he's checking emails he'd rather not be receiving while you lead the way. For your part, you take on your mother's gait, a confident and rhythmic click-clack of heels on the hard floor. Sollux mentioned that and you were quick to piece together that it was your eyes he was looking through. Jake wouldn’t have noticed something like that. You're not given much time to think about your kismesis or his visions though. There are murmurs coming from somewhere to your right up ahead, someone taking a call in the hallway from the one-sided sound of it. You're tempted to walk faster but that would only give you away, so you keep steady even as the sound grows louder with every step pulling you closer and closer to a gamble you can only win by bluffing.

You can see the door now, a monstrosity of security from yesteryear, but you can also see a hallway branching off just before it. You really hope Mister Harley's badge still works. That has to be why Jade wanted Jake to bring it, right? Plus, Sollux mentioned all those machines and screens so you _have_ to make it deeper into the lab. The thought is a welcome reassurance as you come upon the junction. You keep your head bolted forward but can see the scientist in your peripheral as you pass. He's preoccupied, increasing your chances of not ringing any alarms, but if you take too long getting in then surely--

[Welcome, 'Roxanne Lalonde'] says a mechanical voice from old speakers built into the frame before the door opens with the sound of hydraulics. A hand on your back nudges you forward, pushing you into motion and breaking you out of the semi-stunned and half insulted confusion brought on by the apparent facial recognition lock thinking that you are your mother. It isn’t the lab that greets you, not yet. However, it isn’t what you expected either. This room used to house an area designated for research and development. It was littered with shelves and shelves of books, tables covered in papers and blueprints, blackboards that rolled up to reveal more blackboards, and a multitude of parts and machinery. It fascinated you as a kid. At the time, they were on parr with something out of a sci-fi fantasy. Technology caught up fast, faster than it ought to have some say. You wonder if your mother’s work had a hand in that. You’ve always gotten the impression that what she did was kept on a need to know basis, possibly even highly confidential. Perhaps Skaianet and Betty Crocker really did have a more intense rivalry going on than the general public knew about.

You can still see remnants of what the room used to be for. The shelves that were built into the wall are still there and even still have some books on them. The blackboards are still there too, but now they lack the figures that used to cover every inch of space that they had to provide. She must have finished her work at some point. That or, now that you think about it, you suppose she eventually ran out of things to reverse engineer after Mister Harley died.

Now, the room glows a bright brilliant green and hums with energy from the many green cubes, aligned in a massive grid that nearly goes wall to wall. The exception being pathways around the perimeter and wider aisles that criss-cross down its center. At first, you think they’re servers, but it doesn’t make sense that someone would wire so many small machines together instead of fewer more robust ones. Are they containers? There are little lock icons on them. No, they have to be some kind of tech. Jake comments on them looking similar to the uranium power supplies on his island only more advanced, like a refined version. Satisfied with the guess and eager to get to the main room, you make your way down the center path until one of them hisses and raises up an inch or two above the others. A quiet “oops” comes from behind you. You turn, looking over your shoulder, to see Jake at a terminal with his hand raised as if he had just pressed a random button to see what it would do. Nothing explodes but it looks like it might be vital so you gently press the cube back into place. The lock icon remains open but you do hear a click and feel its inner workings buzz, so you guess it’s reconnected. As far as random button pressing goes, you might have gotten very lucky just now. You couldn’t say for sure, but these power bays look like they might be on lifts that recede into the floor.

Crisis averted, you continue into the main laboratory. It is also awash in green light albeit a much more subdued one. A section of the room looks to hold a more selective collection of books, manuscripts, and loose papers. They’re next to a minimalist desk that might actually just be a table. Odds and ends of projects can still be seen around the room, but for the most part, the space gives the impression of a project nearing its end. You shift your attention away from the ambiance and redirect it to the intimidating technology in front of you. The daunting terminal (attached by several thick hanging cables to some other contraptions) appears to be monitoring something with a large amount of blue dots. What that something is, you aren’t sure. What you are sure of is that you see another one of those windows leaning up against the control panel. Unfortunately, there isn’t an unused outlet in sight.

“Holy mackerel,” Jake says. “It’s like all that weird stuff in my Grandfather’s lab except in far fewer pieces and more spiffed up.” That pretty much confirms your thoughts on this being the stuff that used to occupy the other room. “What do you think it’s tracking?”

“If I had’ta take a guess, I’d go with meteors. Kinda my mom’s thing. I sure hope not though, ‘cause thas a fuck ton of space rocks comin for us.” Despite voicing your hope that it isn’t, you have a strong feeling that it is. “While I’m taking guesses, that looks like a countdown.” You point up at a plaque on the wall that is definitely a countdown clock. The tair-off calendar nearby only reinforcing that assumption.

“I don’t think I fancy that description,” Jake says, his brows knitting tightly together.

“Yeah, sayin Skaianet is gonna be ‘Unestablished’ can’t mean too many things.” You stare at the numbers as they tick away, trying to figure out the date but your brain hasn’t hit the point yet where you come full circle drunk and unlock the secrets of math again. “What date is that counting down to?” you ask, fielding the task to Jake instead of continuing to struggle with it.

“Hmm, let me see.” He opens up his phone and looks back up at the timer one more time before grimacing. “April thirteenth. I don’t care much for that bit of info either.” This just keeps getting better and better. You let out a loud breath while shifting your weight to one leg and resting your hands on your hips.

“Well, less’see what else this place hassta throw at us.” You head over to the gadgetry that the monitor is connected to. It’s some kind of platform with what reminds you of a scaled-up version of the appearifier hanging above it, although the logo is a bit different. Next to it is an older looking boxy object. It’s still running on reel-to-reel data storage and has actual toggle switches, lighted keys, and a built-in cathode ray tube display. On top of it is a large glass chamber that looks like it feeds into a smaller glass chamber within the boxy device. Or maybe it’s the other way around? The entire thing is connected by a heavy cable to a retrofitted arcade cabinet that, needless to say, no longer contains an arcade game. You get closer and can see two things on the screen. One is the same geometric pattern of triangles that are etched into the platform to your left. The second is the words “appearifier ready” with a blinking block cursor in the bottom left corner of the screen. “No shit, it _is_ an appearifier.”

“It’s gargantuan,” Jake says as he gets closer and plinks the glass chamber with his fingernail.

“It looks more advanced, but like, an older prototype? Like my mom was all ‘fuck it, this is fine’, or’it was never meant to go into production.” The buttons don’t have much in the way of labeling, it’s only geometric symbols, but you doubt this thing still needs coins, so if you mash enough of them it should launch whatever program it runs. You start with what looks like it was once the start button.

“Wait just a gosh darn minute, Skaianet doesn’t even put out the appearifier. That’s a Crocker Corp product.”

“Ho shit, you’re right.” You barely finish your sentence when the screen comes to life with a surprisingly high resolution. It’s a far cry from HD but it has multiple colors and that’s more than you expected. The image that fades into view is from way in the past, which at this point is less odd than it should be. “Aww, it’s Rose and Jaspers.” They’re sitting in the study where Rose used to play psychiatrist with him. The crosshair over him is a little concerning but maybe it’s just an older style selection indicator? “We always wondered what happened to him. He dis'peared for a long time and when we found him again he wasa'lot less alive. Our mom held this ridic'lussly elaborate funeral for him, even gave him a little suit. And Rose made up a whole backstory for him about how he settled down with a family, but things went sideways an’ he lost everything in the divorce.” You move aside a bit so that Jake can better see, but in the process of doing so, you hit a button. The red crosshair over your former kitty cat briefly flickers. It’s followed by a soft whirring sound as the reel-to-reel device comes to life before the sized-up appearifier appearifies a slime version of Jaspers onto the platform. It’s quickly sucked up into the device that blinks and beeps almost cartoonishly before ejecting the goo material into the glass container on top, along with a cat fetus not entirely unlike the one you have jarred in your room. This one, however, is grossly mutated. “Well, that’s new. Poor thing.”

“Gross. Can we undo it?” Jake asks, already trying to mess with the machine. He presses the only other button left unpressed and the crosshair flashes just like before, except this time Jaspers vanishes from the screen. “Oh dear," 

“No, what did you do!” You try to go back but the screen is locked out. The only option available now is what looks like a next arrow.

“Gosh, I’m sorry, Roxy. I didn’t mean to vanish your cat,” Jake says, awash with regret for his hastyness.

“I know,” you sigh. “It’s, It’s fine. It happened a long time ago.” It still sucks. You’re about to say as much when there is a yank on your scarf. You look down, thinking that you’ve managed to lose track of your own feet and strangle yourself, but instead find a small black kitten trying to climb your scarf like drapes. “Oh my god,” immediately you scoop up the kitty who purrs happily in your hands. “I’m gonna call you Jaspers 2, no wait, Vodka Mu-tini.”

“Vodka Mu-tini?” he echos questionably. You can feel the bewilderment in his voice.

“Yeah, cause my mom was totes sauced making her and she’s a little mutant. Look.” You hold the kitten out to face Jake and make it wave its little paw at him. “She has thumbs.”

“And two sets of eyes," he comes back with.

“Oh shut up, she’s a cutie.”

“Not to disrupt your elaytions, but we do still need to find the diskette.”

“Right, okay, yeah.” You take a deep breath and put on your serious face, then hand the kitten to Jake (who clearly didn’t expect to be on cat watch) and turn your attention back to the machine. “Let’s finish checking out this shit first.” It seems important if it has a real-world effect. You hit the ‘next’ arrow and the new view that comes up isn’t one you recognize but you’re going to hazard a guess that it’s somewhere within Jake and Jade’s house.

“Oh, I think I know what this is. That’s the containment unit for Jade’s dreambot.” Sure enough, no sooner does Jake say it than does the door swing open to reveal Jade’s dreambot. The crosshairs lock-on and for a second or two more the robot continues to move before the image pauses. It takes both of you a few additional seconds to catch the white text at the bottom of the screen that says ‘waiting for input...’. Given the only options of appearifie or sendificate, you hit the button Jake previously mashed and the dreambot’s eyes dim before it unceremoniously falls over. “I still recall getting those parts, so I think it worked.”

“With all this tech you’d think a second monitor wouldnbe outta the question.” You punctuation your criticism with 'tsk'.

“Maybe she never finished it.” You both feel the sting of that last comment although in different regards. The screen of the combination appearifier/sendificator, the transmaterializer you guess, locks out again and another 'next' arrow appears on the screen. This time neither of you recognize the time or place, so you try to appearifie the simply wrapped parcel but it results in the same slime substance that trying to appearifie Jaspers caused, although, without genetics to make use of, it doesn't send anything into the glass tube above.

“So I guess this is mostly us juss playin messenger.” You say while running your nail over the ‘next’ key but not yet pressing it.

“It would seem so. Perhaps I’ll take a look around, see if I can’t find something interesting or at least the break room. A cup of joe would hit the spot right about now.”

“Legit. Careful not to run into anyone.” He gives a nod before heading off and leaving you to the task of messing with the device. You wonder if it has an endpoint. You tap your fingers on the cabinet’s control panel plate a few times before deciding to do a few more. If the task looks endless after that, then you’ll start snooping elsewhere for that disk. You press the next button and get a screen that shows a time more recent than the last few. It’s an almost overhead view of Dirk passed out on the futon at the apartment in Houston. That creepy puppet is on his chest, posed in a way that makes it look like he’s taking off or pulling down Dirk’s shades. You blink and suddenly it’s looking at you. No movement, no transition between the two poses, just suddenly staring right at you. You hit that sendificate button hard and fast, yeeting the little fucker somewhere else. In hindsight though, maybe you should have tried to appearifie it since now you don’t have any idea where it is. Then again, is it even a choice? You haven’t been able to appearifie anything yet or select other objects than the predetermined one. As if sensing your doubts, the next screen shows Jade in her garden several years ago. The crosshair is unlocked and moving the joystick allows you to select any of her pumpkins. Sure enough, you hit the button and one vanishes from the screen then materializes on the platform. Alright, so that does work. You relocate the pumpkin and watch Mu-tini immediately pounce on it. So tiny and already a murder machine. It has you smiling fondly at her before returning your focus to the console. One more go before you take another look around.

You hit the 'next' key and nearly lose your balance with the way you jolt in surprise. Is that...? It has to be; Dirk's never been here and the lab on the screen looks similar but the devices look older and incomplete, like prototypes and works in progress. The person you’re seeing on the screen is Bro. If he's any older than Dirk is now, it isn't by much. You say that because his appearance is uncanny. He's with your mother and while she has a good few years on him, she's still younger than you've ever seen her before. You knew that you look more like her than Rose does, but seeing her in her-- what, mid-thirties? --seeing her within a decade of yourself really makes it apparent. In fact, it gets you thinking. What if it's more than that? What if you're a clone? You've made jokes about being a test tube baby, but what if you really are just straight up an experiment? It would explain some things for sure. You purge the thought from your mind when you remember the current theory that all of you fell to earth on space rocks of unknown origin.

Back on the screen, you watch as Bro and your mother have what looks like a heated conversation in her lab, well...for them anyway. He’s showing an iota of emotion and your mother is doing that foot-tapping thing she does when she’s had enough of someone’s shit. He gestures at a book that looks suspiciously like Aradia’s flarp manual. Whatever he says has her abruptly turning away. He follows her but there isn’t far to go before she turns back to face him with a familiar box under her arm and a diskette in her hand. Of course, this is where the video feed comes to a halt. You wrinkle your nose in annoyance. Yeah, it further confirms things, but you all had pretty much agreed on those things having happened at this point. Then the crosshair pops up. That’s how you get the disk! Your face lights up and you press the appearifie button fully expecting it to snag the diskette because, in your excitement, you’ve forgotten how this part of the story goes.

There’s a flash of light and the unmistakable clatter of diskettes hitting the floor, a hollow plastic clack accented by tings of flimsy metal. A younger version of your mother, fallen to her hands and knees from the shock of being appearified, scrambles to get the disks back into their container. It’s only as she’s putting the last one into place that she starts to realize where she is. Slowly she looks up at you.

“Roxy?” she asks, awestruck by the false image presented to her. Her eyes dart around the room and a smile pricks her face. She thinks you’ve followed in her footsteps. She thinks you’ve continued her work, perfected it. She looks so proud of you. It’s been so long since you’ve seen that look on her face. Her gaze shifts to the device further behind you, the one you suspect is tracking meteors, and to the countdown clock next to it. You have little doubt she can do that math in her head effortlessly. Her eyes return to you and time feels like it stands still as you both stare at each other. Your mind races for something to say while you’re still processing the realization of what’s happening. Your mother seems similarly lost for words but the reasons couldn’t be more different. She gets to her feet and takes a breath, lips parting with the beginning of a sentence that never becomes reality because it’s then that Jake bursts back into the lab.

“Good news! I dropped Dirk a line and he got back to me in a timely fashion.” You both turn to the sound of his voice as it carries through from the other room. “Says the Captors made some headway on those disks what with a new development even. Also, our guy is talking more now and Dirk even got some chow in him.” Jake comes into view, phone in one hand as he skimms the conversation to make sure he isn’t forgetting anything important. “Never would have pegged Dirk as a babysitter, but you were right on the nose about him being in good hands.” He comes to a stop beside you and pockets his phone, then goes to take a sip of coffee from a mug that says ‘Worlds Best Husband’, but stops mid slurp at the sight of your mother. “Oh, um. Hello there, uh, Roxanne.” It doesn’t dawn on you immediately as to why Jake calls your mother by her first name until you realize he’s still playing his part as her colleague.

In a panicked need to halt the miscommunications, you reach for the control panel. The sendificate button is smooth under your fingertips with a familiar resistance from hours lost in arcades. In the minuscule window of time it takes for the machine to recognize the input, it becomes clear to you what’s happening. There's still time to stop it, the button isn’t down far enough to register the command yet, you could fix everything that's pried you and her apart. You don't. You press it anyway. You have to. The flash of energy behind you reflects in the monitor. When you turn around, she’s gone. You preserved the paradox and sealed your fate in the process.

For your efforts, there on the floor, half slid underneath one of the machines, is the first disk.

#  ==> Be Dirk.

There was some doubt thrown your way when you said that you'd keep an eye on Sollux, but you haven't lost him yet and he hasn't gotten worse, so you're doing well so far. The cause for this turn of events is him swinging into some kind of mixed manic bullshit a few days ago and dragging his brother along for the ride. Mituna was watching him at first, but he's too susceptible to a contact high to be left alone with Sollux for long. After a debate among the inner circle of your group, you volunteered to let him stay on the pull-out couch. As expected, this was met with immediate skepticism, but your argument that you are the closest neutral party to his quadrants and Karkat swayed everyone in the end. Also, Sollux anticipated this and had a conversation with you prior to the whole thing even being an issue.

Truth be told, they were right to question you. You are, in fact, not going to do a damn thing to inhibit Sollux's mad dash to pull a miracle out of his ass. If anything, you're enabling him. Not so much as to let him abuse his medication more than he already has, the catalyst for tipping him into his current state as it turns out, but enough to keep this shit show on track. You have to admit, when Mituna let that bit of info slip, you were impressed by the dedication. That shit is basically amphetamines.

He's acting a lot like the last time you saw him all hopped up, somehow scattered everywhere yet focused as fuck and visibly going a mile a minute in his head. Right now he’s in the living room, sitting on the floor despite a perfectly good couch being available, with his laptop and Bro’s laptop in front of him on the coffee table. It takes up most of the space but there is still enough room on the other side for a stack of papers. Mituna has been sifting through Jade's set of glyphs to figure out how many individual symbols there are while Hal does the same for the set he and Dave found. It’s vital information that Sollux will need for the program he’s writing to parse this shit. He’s already started on building the compiler, a task you do not envy him for if the sounds of frustration coming from him are anything to go by. Occasionally he’ll consult you but it’s clear that he isn’t truly seeking your input so much as he is talking through an issue with himself at you. It’s fine, you have other things to work on.

Roxy said that there will be a server disc and client disc for each player, so you’ve tasked yourself with figuring out several different entry order plans. Getting Dave in is going to be a trick though. Your knowledge of the game is limited, but you know there is a timer of some kind. In Theory, you should be able to bounce back and forth to take care of both your entry and his. There are a lot of variables, however, such as if the fenestrated portals will work after a player enters the game. It’s also unlikely that Dave will want to postpone his reunion with Sollux for any longer than need be, so your plans have to factor that in too.

You look up from the charts that you’ve been constructing at your kitchen table when you hear the siren song of the coffee pot sputtering, signaling that it’s done perking. You prefer regular but have been making half-caff for Sollux’s sake. Every now and then you switch out his cup for water and much like last time he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. After making a cup for Sollux, who murmurs something vaguely close to a ‘thanks’ when you set it down near him, you pour one for yourself and step outside for a cigarette. You’ve been considering the idea of giving your vape another go since finding out that your brother isn’t quite as deceased as you were led to believe, but now just isn’t the time. It’s a shitty excuse but it does have its roots in truth. For now, you savor the sensations. Like a fine wine, you indulge in the smoke filling your mouth, the crackle of paper, the nearly negligible weight between your fingers, and the moment of stillness the act itself brings to you. There is a reason you buy the expensive organic shit. It burns better. It lasts longer. It draws out the moment of calm that is often so hard to otherwise obtain. That’s the problem with the vape. It isn’t finite.

You're almost done when you see Mituna making his way down the block after an aggressively sharp turn that nearly has him falling over. He clamors his way up the wooden stairs to the second floor of your apartment complex with an amount of excitement that has him losing his footing when he goes to slow down. You catch him around the waist with one arm while snuffing out your cigarette.

“Eh heh heh heh, sthrong. Would let you fuck- fucking choke me out getting nasthy. Hahahaha.” He says with a grope of your triceps as you set him upright.

“I only top on special occasions,” You say dryly. He’s either going for shock value, in which case you aren’t giving him the satisfaction, or he has no filter and doesn’t truly mean it. In the latter case, a likely one, you’ll play along for the hell of it.

“My wiggly daysth coming up.” He means wriggling day. Or is it wiggling day? Grubs and young trolls are often called wigglers. No, you think you’re right; it’s wriggling day. You’re almost sure of it.

“I’ll mark my calendar.” At that, Mituna snorts an ugly laugh. Done with the conversation, you tilt your chin up in the direction of the door, ushering him to go inside. It has him jolting and visibly switching gears as if he forgot that inside existed and that he had an objective beyond trying to hit on you for shits and giggles. He does collect himself quickly, however, and heads inside with the same brand of chaotic enthusiasm he had before.

Sollux only barely looks up from the storm of typing and furious backspacing to acknowledge Mituna’s existence. He’s deeply zoned in on what he’s doing right now, so you aren’t going to bother him because that will only piss him off, but you should get some food into him at some point. With the two of them occupied, you’re about to go back to your work when pesterchum pings.

gutsyGumshoe [G G], began pestering timaeusTestified [T T].

G G: Dirk, I need you to drop whatever you're doing and turn on the news PDQ!

G G: It's a disaster!

T T: I don't have cable in the "traditional" sense. Am I looking for local or national?

G G: It doesn't matter. It's all over!

T T: Alright, alright, Hold your horses.

T T: Wow.

T T: That ain't a good look, Jane.

G G: I don't know what happened! We did so much testing and the original tiara top never did this!

G G: I've been using it for weeks. What if that had been me? I'm in back to back conference calls all the time!

G G: Things are kooky enough on a regular basis. Now my PR department is going bonkers, HR is no better, and my legal team is laying bricks in their trousers.

T T: Putting that many people in the hospital will do that.

G G: I don't think you have the whole picture. The economy models weren't just sending people into fits, they were catching fire and exploding.

G G: It's a smaller percentage because we only had the deluxe available for pre-order, but this virus or hacker or whatever it is didn't only send people to the hospital.

T T: So much for this year's top ten tech list.

G G: Dirk I'm serious!

T T: I can tell. You've used seven exclamation points so far.

G G: This doesn't sit well with me. I knew there was something underhanded going on behind my back.

T T: What did you know exactly?

G G: Not a lot, but after what you said in that first memo and then talking with Roxy, I had this feeling like someone's been pulling strings under my nose. Recently, I could swear some of my emails are disappearing before I can read them.

G G: If we put Lil Sebastian in manual mode, is there anything you could do? Maybe take a look around for anything fishy?

T T: Possibly.

T T: Sollux is here. If I can break him out of his coding trance, he may be up for some penetration testing.

T T: Fair warning though, there's a very good chance it'll overheat Lil Sebastian. He wasn't made for this shit.

G G: He's the only non-Crocker Corp technology here. I'm not the sharpest cookie with computers but it might be a tad suspicious if the call is coming from inside the house, so to speak.

T T: You are right to be looking for the least compromised machine, but it's more akin to the line already being tapped.

T T: Alright, plug him in and I'll see what we can do.

G G: Thanks, I owe you one.

T T: I'm holding you to that. I haven't figured out our best approach yet, but when the time comes, we'll need you to play this game.

G G: It's a deal.

T T: Cool.

gutsyGumshoe [G G] ceased pestering timaeusTestified [T T].

You pocket your phone and look up at Sollux who is sitting stock still and scowling at his screen.

"Yo, Sollux." Not even a flinch. He is deaf to the world. You get closer, intending to tap him on the shoulder, but Mituna gets to him first by chucking a marker at his head. He stops it psionically only inches from his face and glares up at his brother before shooting it right back at him. Mituna unsuccessfully tries to dodge it, laughs, and gets prepared to throw another one, but stops when you hold up a hand in a 'stand down' manner. "You have a minute to hack into a mega-corporation?" you ask, now that the younger Captor isn't tunnel focused. He turns slowly toward you.

"Go on..." There's no delay or stutter in the small sentence. He’s still messy with the longer ones, but he's talking more despite it. Overall, his ability to articulate has been vastly improving. Although it could merely be the manic state he's induced and or hastened, you would prefer to believe that he is legitimately healing in whatever regard he needs to. Obviously, he won't be fully functional until he sees Dave again, but with some luck, at the rate he's going, that may become a matter of closure more than anything.

"If you recall, we've been uncovering information that alludes to some shady bullshit going on at Betty Crocker and Skaianet Systems," you start. Sollux nods in acknowledgment and you continue. "Jane was originally offended at my suggestion of said shady bullshit but has since come around to the idea. Recently, by which I mean yesterday, her tiara top computers started sending people to the hospital and the morgue, so she's understandably losing her damn mind." You pause to come up for air. It's become so much more obvious how winded you get when speaking since you woke up on Derse again. "She thinks she's been hacked and wants us to go digging around. All the tech at Crocker Corp is compromised but she does have a robotic digital assistant that I made her a while back. You can remote into it once I put it in manual mode. It looks like you could use a break from working on that anyway." You tack on the last bit as an afterthought. Sollux looks back over to his laptop, taking a brief moment to consider your offer.

"Alright," he says with a nod. You drop your laptop out of your sylladex and make some room for it on the coffee table before taking a seat on the couch. It's been a long time since you last did this. It isn't a feature you've ever actually had to use. Luckily, you think ahead and have a cheat sheet for the console commands.

Once you give the go-ahead, Sollux remotes in and gets to work digging around. You let him have at it and go back to pondering strategies while standing by on robot watch. It’s strange to be trusting someone besides Hal or Roxy with something like that, but she and Dave have faith in him. You’ll give him the benefit of the doubt by extension. He seems to know what he’s doing. You think he might legitimately be having fun too. Dave will be glad to hear that. He's been doing a bit better since Hal found that portal, and the thought to move some of his stuff back into his old room seemed to further alleviate some stress, but the strain of his predicament is still visibly weighing on him. Discreetly, you snap a photo of Sollux to show Dave later. It's a split-second decision that couldn't have been a moment too soon.

"What the...?" Sollux mumbles as he scrunches up his face. You get up and walk around to look on behind him. You know your hacking skills aren't on his level, but he must be doing some wild shit because you only have the vaguest idea of what you're looking at. He brings up some other programs that only continue to confuse you, although that could very well simply be due to them not being in English.

"It's doing something," Mituna says while pointing at your laptop. The only thing you have up at present is Lil’ Sebastian's resource monitor. You barely have time to react to the possibility that he's already overheating before your attention is pulled back to Sollux who is now repeatedly cursing and trying to back out of whatever he was doing. You know it's serious when he abruptly changes tactics and goes for the power button instead. It takes a few seconds to force the shutdown and in those moments a black screen with tacky yellow matrix-esque , fall-down, Alternian letters overtakes the monitor. It could very well be your monkey brain hard at work, but in the blip of time before the power cuts, you could swear you saw a face in there somewhere. “Still doing something,” Mituna says with more urgency.

You lean over the table and swing your laptop around the other way to face you. Lil’ Sebastian is critically hot. Whatever trap Sollux walked into opened 20,000 browser tabs, initiated 2 instances of the same download per tab, disabled the fans, and began opening every application it could get its hands on.

“Stha-something is in there.” You turn to look at him, waiting for an elaboration on the obvious. “I don’t know how it, it found me so quickly.” Sollux looks genuinely perplexed as he stares at the black screen.

“Why did you switch to those other applications?” You can see his brain change gears at your question, it having little to do with what he just said.

“That was weird too.” He furrows his eyebrows and frowns in a mix of thought and frustration. The pause is also likely to stall while he gets the words to his mouth. “It was an, an Apiculture based network, an old one. Used Alternian protocols.”

“You mean like a subnet or a second network entirely?”

“Second one.”

“I’m assuming it’s very well hidden?” you half-ask. Sollux nods in confirmation. “It could be that they’re using it as an extra layer of security. For all we know that could be their secure network and what we think is their network could be an elaborate honeypot. Crocker Corp certainly isn’t lacking in the funding to do that.”

“No. This thing wasth...active. It back-hacked me.”

“It back-hacked you?” Sollux doesn’t strike you as one to admit defeat so easily or to reveal it without provocation. It must significantly weird him out for him to cough that up unprompted. Sollux doesn’t answer you, instead, he ruffles his hands through his hair before smoothing it out again. He’s been awake for a while. You should cram some food in him before he either hits mandatory nap levels of exhaustion or a third wind. “Hm, alright, let's put a pin in that. We’ll break for some shitty freezer burritos and let Lil’ Sebastian cool off before we go rooting around in this hot pile of garbage.”

“I can do it!” Mituna yells as he springs up off the sofa and dashes into the kitchen. You look to Sollux for confirmation on Mituna’s ability to use the oven without burning down the place. He gives you a nod. You nod back a few times before silence falls between you.

“We’re still misth, misth, missing stha-something,” he stutters while staring blankly at the laptop screen.

“I know.” You’re pretty sure that you’re on the same wavelength here, but you continue anyway. “It’s the compiler, right?” He nods. “You know it has to be an ~ahth compiler but dumping those glyphs into it isn’t likely to do shit right?” He makes a so-so gesture that has you raising an eyebrow.

“It's complicated." Complicated is better than being entirely in the dark and considering his familiarity with the ruins, you're going to hesitantly see this in a positive light. "Should check on Mituna. He some-sometimes forgets the- the plastic. To take off the plastic.” That would have been good to mention before letting him loose in your kitchen, but to Sollux’s credit, he did mention it soon enough that the oven isn’t even heated up enough yet to cause any damage.

It turns out to be a non-issue because upon entering the kitchen you find the plastic-free burritos laid out on a baking pan on top of the oven. What does turn out to be an issue is Mituna himself. His helmet is off and he’s hunched over on the counter holding his head while he breathes heavily at a steady tempo. Cautiously you approach him, saying his name before carefully touching his shoulder when he doesn’t respond.

“I need more.” He’s quick. In a matter of seconds, he has you by your collar, backed against the sink, and is ripping off your shades. “Look at me you fuck!” he snarls as he brushes back his bangs, holding them out of the way. The only reason you haven’t snapped him like a twig is because you aren’t sure what the protocol for ‘handling him’ is. You know he isn’t all there and that he does things that he doesn’t mean; he lacks impulse control. No one has ever said he’s dangerous, but he does seem capable. You decide that the best course of action is to give him what he wants. Despite the rough treatment, he didn’t ask for much. You look at him. You look directly into pin-struck red and blue eyes that are desperately searching your face. For what, you don’t know. He lets go of you abruptly with a shove of frustration, then goes back to where he was leaning against the counter and bangs the heels of his hands against his head. “No, no, no. I had it. I had it.” You give him a moment, collecting your shades from the floor at a more leisurely pace than need be before approaching him again.

“What’s going on?” You have some guesses.

“I saw it,” he whines as he grips his hair.

“You had a flashback to one of your visions?” He nods. “Judging by the manhandling, I’m going to take a stab in the dark and say it involved my not so dearly departed brother.” Mituna doesn’t say anything but he does straighten up and turn around. With a sigh to the ceiling, he picks up his helmet and crams it back on his head.

“Bro made music.” It’s a statement, not a question. “He made music..." Mituna’s sentence trails as he holds out his hands in a gesture vaguely resembling Bro working at his turntables.

“Yeah, he was a DJ. He mixed beats.” Mituna shakes his head.

“He _MADE_ , music,” he repeats with emphasis on ‘made’.

“Yeah, that’s part of it. He did make some of his own jams.” Where is he going with this? You get the feeling he’s on the precipice of something, he might even know, but can’t figure out how to put it into words. “The laptop probably has some of his stuff on it.”

“Old?” he asks so quickly that he nearly cuts you off.

“Depends on how old you’re talking.”

“You were, only you, no Dave.” Before Dave was born? That’s going way fucking back.

“You’re talking about his tracks from when he was trying to go legit. I don’t know if he ever digitized his older stuff.” Mituna deflates at the comment. “Lucky for us I never got around to hocking his shit. If it’s something you saw in a vision..." You would rather not, but there isn’t much choice in the matter. “I’ll dig up his tapes for you.” And suddenly the troll standing adjacent to you is a completely different person, brimming with energy and eagerness.

“Yes! Yes, let’s go!” Hm, you were only going to pop over there and get them, but you suppose there isn’t much harm in bringing Mituna there instead. He starts pulling you by the arm and tells you that you’re too slow, so you tell him to fuckin’ chill and then pop the burritos in the oven. No sense in wasting good burrito prep time.

“Alright, come on. The fenestrated portal is in my room. Yo, Sollux,” You say, calling his attention before you disappear from his line of sight down the hall. He picks his head up from whatever he was involved in on the laptop and looks at you. “I’m taking your brother to Huston for a hot minute. Watch the oven.” He nods but you want to make sure it’s getting through to him. “Seriously, we don’t need to be setting this place on fire.” The comment gets you an eye roll, but Sollux does get to his feet. Arm crutches drop from his sylladex and his laptop floats behind him as he makes his way to the kitchen table. With the structural integrity of the apartment complex more or less secured, you shift your focus back to the other Captor who is eagerly waiting by the magical science window. “I’ll go first. All you need to do is jump down into it. You’ll be right side up when you come out the other side.” You aren’t sure what governs orientation in regard to traversing these, but regardless of how you go into them, you’ve always come out in a convenient way that is palpable even if not entirely logical. You jump in and pop out as expected without issue. Mituna follows you with reckless abandon. However, when he comes out the other side, it’s with far less grace. Concerned that he might fall back through, you grab him by his shirt and yank him forward. It seemed like a good idea at the time and was realistically your only option if you wanted to avoid said concern, but it does have him toppling into you.

Mituna presses a hand to your chest and pushes himself up but doesn’t make any further movements conducive to remedying the situation. Instead, he sits straddled on your hips and holds up his hands to mime snapping pictures of you with an imaginary camera. 

“Eh heh heh heh, snap it slap it. With picturesth won’t last longer.” He’s making some kind of lewd reference to the phrase ‘take a picture, it will last longer’.

“Do you mind?” You ask in an attempt (that you immediately realize is going to fail) to remove the troll from your person.

“Yes.” What a shock that that didn’t work.

“Flattered that you’re getting off on me, really,” you say in a deadpan tone. “but if you could get off **OF** me, that’d be great.” Mituna laughs like a maniac with no regard for where he is currently seated, in leather pants no less. He puts his hand against your chest again as he leans forward to speak. You’re very disappointed in yourself for finding this hot.

“Don’t forget, six eleven,” He says before finally removing himself.

“What’s six eleven?” You ask while taking the hand offered to you and getting to your feet.

“My wiggly day.” Obviously, you can’t see it, but you have years of training in ocularly obscured expression interpretation. He doubtlessly just winked at you. You let out a breath through your nose.

“Come on, the tapes are in his room.”

You aren’t sure why you didn’t throw them out. If anyone asked, you would say it was an oversight, but that’s not true. You saw them and you thought about throwing them out, but you didn’t. Had it been on the first day you were cleaning out the place, you might have. Perhaps that’s why they were tucked so far back under his bed. You can almost feel that smug look of his radiating from the cheap urn you put him in. Another thing you haven’t gotten rid of. You would say ‘yet’ but somehow you get the feeling that it isn’t going anywhere either.

The case Bro kept his tapes in wasn’t uncommon for the time you suppose, but you’ve never encountered another one like it. It’s a simple black leather briefcase-like box with slotted rows to hold the cassette boxes. You intended to carry it out to the living room, but Mituna pops it open while you're getting the tape deck and is already rifling through it. It has the capacity to hold a lot of tapes and every slot is full. He’s making quick work of it though. It’s almost like he knows what he’s looking for. Maybe he does. One by one he pulls them from their place, looks at the cover, and puts them back. He does this over and over until he reaches one that is missing its paper jacket. It has him pausing before putting it back wrong-ways up as if to bookmark it. It’s not the only one he finds. When he finally reaches the end, there are a multitude of jacketless cassettes standing up on the short side of their cases.

“Where’s the- the..." his hands hang in the air. “Pictures, no, the-- the sleeves?” Your mouth opens to tell him you have no fucking clue, but before the words can come out, you realize that you do have a fucking clue. God, why couldn’t he just be straightforward about any of this? You dig the memento box out of the closet and pull up the false bottom to get at the stack of carefully flattened out cardstock, then hand them over. Even just looking at the spines, it’s clear that Bro didn’t do these himself. Someone else drew these. You wonder if it was someone from his old crew. The polaroids were right next to it. While you try not to think too deeply about your late brother's personal life, Mituna matches up the sleeves with their respective tapes. You watch as he flips each of them over in his hands, then lines them up. At first, you aren’t sure what his criteria is for their place in line but as he shuffles them around, it becomes clearer that they form a continuous image.

“Huh, well how about that.” Your eyes scan the graphic for meaning, trying to piece together the fragments of Bro’s busted up thought process. In your peripheral, you see Mituna popping a tape into the deck. To the outside eye, it might appear as though you were deep in thought and found the noise to be unexpected. That isn’t it though. Hearing your bro’s music, his old music, has you tensing up and swallowing an unexpected feeling that you can’t quite pin down. It’s like trying to figure out what you ate last night based on the vomit stains the next morning. You have some ideas but a lot of it is indecipherable. After a handful of minutes sitting stone still, you reach out to pause the tape. “We’ll be here all night listening to this. I’m not sure what you need with it, but if you’re so intent on checking out my brother’s old stuff, you can take it with you.” He looks, at first, like he might object to your proposition, but after a beat to process it, he agrees with a nod.

When you get back to your apartment, Sollux is just pulling the burritos out of the oven. They’re slightly burnt and you have little doubt he forgot about them, only thinking to check once he heard you both coming back through the fenestrated portal. Your apartment isn't on fire though, so no harm, no fowl you suppose.

Mituna wastes no time making himself comfortable on the couch with his food and the stack of glyph images while he bobs his head to the beat of Bro’s music that is thankfully playing through the headphones built into his helmet. You find yourself staring at him in thought. Bro’s music is relevant. In what way it’s relevant, that still eludes you.

#  ==> Be Dave.

"Okay but, real talk, you're sure this isn't racist?" you ask Fefferi as the two of you make your way down a desolate stretch of road in the middle of nowhere toward a dilapidated scuttle buggy stop.

“I told you, you’re fine. You need to be in-cod-neato as much as I do.” You know she’s right, a human on Alternia would be insane levels of weird and you would immediately be arrested by secret police, but it still feels wrong to be walking around covered in grey makeup. “Besides, you look great in my rust blood disguise.” You do have to admit, you look pretty fucking sharp. Fefferi made some alterations to one of her wigs for you, bringing it from a troll Ellen Degeneres to a troll Owen Willson, and let you design some horns to bolt onto it. They’re super legit and it had you wondering where she learned to do that until you saw her slipping some falsies over her own.

“Aight, if you say so.” No sooner do you reach the oddly larval looking bus stop does the bus- the scuttle buggy start coming into view. Fefferi pays your way and you slip further into an aloof persona that disguises the way you’re taking in the surreality of an alien planet. When you reach the city limit a half-hour later, boy is it something. It’s straight out of some kind of vaguely insect-themed Blade Runner. Okay maybe not quite Blade Runner, but it’s a city and there are hella neon lights, geometric bullshit galore, and technology that you don’t recognize. It's strange to you but also familiar in a way. As you step out onto the street, surrounded by tall buildings and the din of traffic, you find yourself relaxing. When you think about it for more than a second, it makes sense. It's what you grew up with, what you escaped to when the apartment was too much. The carapacians are alright, and at first, there was some comfort in Derse's cityscapes, but it just wasn't the same. There was no choice but the limelight. You couldn’t disappear there. Truthfully, it isn't the same here either, not really, but it’s closer. You can fade into the crowd as long as nobody catches on to you not being a troll. Hmm, you suppose that’s not actually closer, more like the opposite what with there still not being a choice. Well, at least it’s on the same side of the veil as Earth. It's a big weight off your shoulders. Even if it is a distance so vast that wrapping your mind around it gives you a headache, it's still a way back.

"You look like a tourist," Fefferi laughs as you aimlessly stroll down the sidewalk, fully taking in the view. You turn your head to her voice and make a 'hm?' sound even though you heard her.

"If anyone asks just tell 'em I'm really fuckin high." The comment earns you another chuckle and a smile full of crazy sharp teeth.

"You're funny, Dave."

"I know," you respond automatically. It comes like a reflex, dodging the need to respond sincerely by employing ironic rudeness that comes full circle back into charmville.

"That reminds me, don’t forget what I said beshore," she says, changing the subject...maybe. You have already forgotten.

"Yeah, totally...what was that again?"

"You know..." She looks down with only her eyes. Following her gaze you find her holding out her hand.

"Oh, right, yeah." Hesitantly you take it. She said it would be easier this way. She'd be able to lead you around and as a high blood/low blood couple it wouldn't be weird for her to speak for you if and when you run your mouth at the wrong person. It feels a bit weird, especially since you barely know her, but if it lessens your odds of getting caught then you'll deal with it.

Before you do anything specific, Fefferi leads you around the city. She takes you on a little tour, showing you some of its landmarks and making commentary about some of her favorite places. You have to keep mostly to yourselves because there is a price on her head, and because your human accent might make people look twice, but you're still having fun. She gets you into an upscale art museum where you mock the hell out of all the pretentious pieces of shit on display, speaking quietly aside to her in your tour guide voice. When that gets old (and also because you shouldn't stay there too long) she takes you to a low blood district known for its "temporary respiratory failure-inducing" street art. She says that you can speak more freely and at a normal volume in a low blood district but to keep your guard up. The phrase is like ice down your spine. It momentarily robs you of expression and sends you somewhere dark in your mind before you can shake the sick feeling. Thankfully, Fefferi doesn't notice. Her attention is more focused on your surroundings without being too obvious. You quickly pick up on the subtle movements of her ear fins and the way she tastes the air. Sometimes, after she does that, she'll put her arm around you in an affectionate but possessive manner. It's unnerving but at least you know she's being vigilant.

When it comes time to break for lunch, you're glad she's spent some time on earth. There can't not be troll foods that would have you hugging the porcelain throne, but also, some of that stuff is just too out there for your pallet. In the most solid of calls, Fefferi takes you to the Alternian version of a pizzeria for troll pizza. You damn near shed a tear. It's like a little slice of home in your mouth.

You end the day with some more meandering and promises of coming back to check out the music scene before heading over to the scuttle buggy station. On the way there, she persuades you to take a pic with her, and even though she doesn't say so, you get the feeling it's headed Sollux's way.

#  ==> Dirk: Answer the door.

You’re standing in front of your front door, katana drawn and pointed eye-level, ready to greet whoever has been jangling the lock for the past three minutes. You flex your grip when you finally hear the tumblers give way and prepare to offer some friendly advice to whoever has decided to break into your apartment.

“Roxy?” you say in surprise when the door opens and she jumps back with a yelp, nearly toppling over in the process. You pull the blade back immediately and return your sword to your strife specibus. Your eyes dart to the lock where there is indeed the spare key you gave her, then turn to Roxy herself who is anything but steady on her feet. She sways as she closes the short distance and continues to sway even after latching onto you, her arms draped around your neck and her face buried in your collar.

All the commotion finally wakes Sollux. He murmurs a “hmm?” from where he is sitting up on the couch, hair stuck at odd angles, eyes barely open, and the tip of his tongue poking out. He must figure that you have it covered because he lies back down, dropping like a sack of bricks back onto the pillow. Roxy continues to sway but has now incorporated some incomprehensible mumbling into the mix. You sling an arm around her and reach over to grab her key and shut the door before you get into what's going on. God, she fuckin wreaks of alcohol.

"What's up?" you say into her hair while wrapping your remaining arm around her. She whines into your shirt and slurs something that you think might have been self-deprecating. "Alright, come on." You don't give her time to protest, not that she does much when you scoop her up into your arms and cart her off to your room. For a long moment, you simply sit there on the edge of your bed with her in your lap. You've let this go on for too long. You should have addressed it sooner and more adamantly.

"Roxy--"

"S'all my fault," she says low and tired just as you start to speak.

"What is?" The question is like pulling a plug. She launches into the story starting at the middle, then backtracks to the beginning, and proceeds more or less chronologically with recounting the recent events involving her and Jake's trip to Skaianet Systems. Her words blend together with both intoxication and fatigue, causing bits and pieces to get lost. You let her continue, though. From the sound of it, she needs to let off some steam. You'll have to get the specifics once she's sobered up, but from what you gather, she and Jake encountered more time anomalies, or perhaps the source of the time anomalies you've already encountered. The source of her frustration, however, involves her mother in some way that becomes increasingly more difficult to decipher. When she pauses, you jump in like it's conversational double dutch and you're going for the world title. "I think it's time we got you to bed. We can--"

"Nooo, Dirk, yur not listeninnnn," she complains while trying to put her hand over your mouth. You tug it away and keep it held in your own.

"I'm listening. You're drunk, angry at your mother, and annoyed with yourself. Also Jake did something stupid." She sighs deeply in resignation and thuds her head on your shoulder. "So, here's the plan. I'm gonna get you some aspirin and a glass of water, while you go swish some Listerine and change into pj's, then you're crawling in this bed and getting some fucking shut-eye."

"...okay. You comin back? I mean like, ta bed?"

"Sure." You hadn't planned on it and you probably won't sleep but Roxy should be out cold relatively quick. "We can talk about this again tomorrow when you're less verbally waterlogged." You try to put it delicately but you think you may have lost the meaning of your statement in that metaphor. It doesn't matter. You doubt that she'll remember this.

"M'kay." With a mumble of agreement, she moves to get out of your lap. You let her but keep a hand hovering nearby in case she loses her balance. While she gets rid of her gin breath, you locate something that will mostly fit her and pass it off on the way to the kitchen. When you return, she looks slightly less disheveled and more tired. It does nothing to soothe the ball of guilt gestating in your gut. This is your fault. For all your concerns about winding up as shitty a person as your brother, for all your countermeasures and attempts to 'break the cycle', you're still falling short. She's always there prodding you and on the rare occasion that you willingly seek out her council, she obliges. In return, after all she's done for you, you let this happen to her.

You pull back the covers and shoo Roxy into your bed with a gesture of your head. She climbs in and scoots over, making room for you to follow. The way she cozies up to you, tucking herself away from the world in your chest, invokes an emotion that is difficult to process. She feels safe with you. It's not an entirely foreign concept, you shielded Dave from Bro both literally and metaphorically for several years, and yet, there is something different about this. You idly rub her back and try not to squander the moment by thinking about it. You bet that's it. You're simply looking into it too deeply. You're trying to find reason in an emotion instead of feeling it, analysis as a vehicle of avoidance. That's what she would probably tell you in different words. The arm slung around your middle starts to go slack. You usher her to let go of the waking world with gentle brushes of your fingers through her hair, each one like an act of penance for allowing her to stray as far as she has into the tempting arms of hedonistic false comfort. You weren't there when you needed to be, again. Before you embark on another mental journey of self-flagellation, there is a soft knock on the door. You shift to look over your shoulder.

"Yeah?" you ask quietly, not wanting to disturb Roxy. Sollux slowly pushes the door open as if giving you time to tell him not to come in. The notion is reinforced by the way he is shielding his eyes and looking away when he comes into view.

"Made coffee," he says in a hushed but not quite whispered voice while raising up the cup he's already made for himself.

"Thanks." You almost make a comment about being decent and him not needing to shield his delicate virgin eyeballs, but decide against it. Roxy needs her rest. A quip isn't worth jeopardizing that. Sollux nods and disappears silently. The halo of psy-onics enveloping him dashing any hope that he was walking unassisted yet. Would it be your place to persuade him to do that? It might have to be if no one else is going to. He's doing well but he needs to be stronger.

Once you are certain she is asleep, you carefully disentangle yourself from Roxy and get out of bed. The sleepy movement of her arm seeking you out in the newly empty space has you momentarily freezing in place. Substituting yourself for a pillow quells her unrest and once you are sure she isn't waking up, you resume your route to the coffee where you find Sollux sitting at what passes for a kitchen table in your small apartment. He's holding a mug with both hands, elevated enough that the occasional sip is only a minor movement, and staring off into space. Coffee acquired, you sit down in the other chair, opposite of him.

"How is she?" the question catches you off guard. You expected a longer silence between you.

"Trashed. I doubt she'll remember coming here when she wakes up. Which begs the question of how she got here in the first place."

"Jake?" he proposes.

"Possibly. If so, some warning would have been nice." He nods in agreement. "You should go back to sleep. You haven't slept in a while." You phrase it as if you aren't keeping count. He shakes his head.

"I've been thinking." You wait for the rest while he takes another sip of his coffee. "I asked Mituna about his vision." You recall them having a hand conversation earlier while Jake was messaging you. Mituna seems to do better with those. However the language center of his brain has rewired itself must be stimulated by the kinesthetics involved with that. "He said he was Bro. He was mixing. Like in the letter." Sollux is keeping his sentences short but strung together. "You were in his lap." That detail sparks more than unease in you. Dread pricks your skin like a cold sweat for unclear reasons. This event must be pretty fucking deep in your subconscious. Between your reaction and him referring to the letter, you're thinking this has something to do with that puppet.

"And Cal was on his back?" you ask. Sollux nods, confirming your suspicion and validating the foreboding feeling brewing in you.

"Cal was whispering to him."

"The way you say that sounds like it should be a bombshell despite me already being aware that Bro's grip on reality received less maintenance than the grip on his katana." The sentence strikes a chord in the troll. His face contorts in a way that resembles something you've seen on Dave's face before, fear hidden behind a facade of anger. With Sollux though, you don't think it's fear. You think the emotion he was quick to cover up was pain.

"It's more than that," He says. The sentence comes out strained.

"How so?" Your interest is piqued but you remain patient.

"It just is." You sip at your coffee calmly, face void of expression. He's lying to you. You can hear the defense in his voice.

"If you don't want to tell me right now, that's fine, I'll take a rain check, but don't lie to me." There's that look on his face again. It's more pronounced this time. Something in that sentence cut him. You play back your words but nothing stands out. Was it the accusation? "Sorry," you apologize despite not being certain of what you're apologizing for. "So, Cal was whispering to him while he mixed and that is a detail of importance. What else?" He eases back down a bit when it's clear you won't press the issue.

"Mituna said 'they'. Said Cal whisth, whithp," Sollux sets down his coffee to free up his hands for gesticulation. "talked to him while _'they'_ made music. I said 'he' and Mituna sthsaid no. **'They'**." You open your mouth to contribute to the conversation but Sollux continues. "Visions are important. His music is important. Roxanne went to his show. Didn't have to. She knew-- she knew he was at the, the, the diner. Watching him. Had to be a reason. His music is important." He's talking in that train-of-thought way that picks up speed at the sacrifice of full coherence and complete sentences. "Mituna kept rewinding it. The tape. My vision. I heard-- I thought I heard a, a disk drive. Plasthicklit. Plasth-tic click, whirring sthound. Maybe wasn't a disk."

"You think you heard your brother playing the tapes?" Sollux nods in a rapid fashion. "What is he listening for?"

"I don't know," He says pointedly with wide eyes. You sip at your coffee again. This isn't half-caff.

"An interesting theory. What have you got for wild speculations in regard to it?" A smirk to match the freshly-caffeinated look in his eyes stretches across his face, and he gets to his feet.

"One sec." His crutches clack as he starts to move and it reminds you of your earlier thoughts on him needing to get stronger.

"Hold up a minute," you say as you put out a hand. The casual gesture for him to take pause catches him by the chest in the usual manner, but his reaction is anything but ordinary. He recoils, hard, with a gasp, and loses his footing as he desperately tries to back away from you. Thankfully the only thing behind him is the kitchen trash. The tall plastic bin buffers him, making his descent to the floor more of a slide than a fall, although it still doesn't look pleasant. You're left there with your hand hanging in the air, bewildered, as your brain plays catch-up with the scene before you. Sollux is on the floor, knees half pulled up, palms to the ground bracing himself on either side, with his head bowed and breathing just a bit too hard. Again, similar to something you've seen on Dave. You stand up and he flinches. It never stings any less. With so much focus on Dave's death and then on the game, you had nearly forgotten about the other source of trauma he's dealing with. God only knows what your brother did to him. How he can stand being around you at all is a wonder. "Sollux." You doubt Bro used his name much. He picks his head up to briefly look at you. He's responsive, a positive sign. You don't think that you sent him into a full panic or gave him a flashback, just spooked him. "You good?”

"Yyeah." He reaches up to grab the counter edge, presumably to stand, but falters and falls back down when you move to get one of his crutches for him. He curses and hangs his head in embarrassment before collecting himself and trying again, this time successfully hoisting himself onto his feet.

"You sure you’re good?" He clearly isn't, not entirely, but you ask anyway.

"Yeah. I'm fine," he says with his eyes to the floor.

"I'm gonna hand this back to you," you warn despite his words. You don't phrase it as a request for permission, but you also don't move until he nods in confirmation.

"Thanks." He loops his arm through the cuff and already looks steadier even if he's still gripping the counter. "What was two minutes?"

"Huh?" You raise an eyebrow at the nonsensical question.

"You said 'two minutes'." Is that what he heard? The words look like they leave a bad taste in his mouth. That or give him indigestion the way he puts his hand to his chest. The thought comes only a second before you realize that's not why he's putting his hand to his chest. He's rubbing away the ghost of your touch...and perhaps Bro's too.

"I said, 'hold up a minute'." Sollux's eyes widen for a moment before squinting as he grimaces with realization. "It's fine. Don't worry about it. What were you going to show me?" You try to shift the subject but your olive branch is met with annoyance.

"No, why did you stop me? What did you-- what wasth so important?" You ignore his misplaced aggravation. It's about to be very much placed anyway.

"I was going to suggest that you stop using those around the apartment. You get around on them without much difficulty and I've seen you stand on your own." He frowns like he knows you're right but doesn't want to say as much. "Not to be a complete tool after setting you off, but you don't have the luxury of taking it slow. I think you know that." His frown deepens with the last sentence.

"You're not in my quads. You don't get to tell me that." You thought that might be touchy, especially with the current arrangement, but you didn't think it was such a blatant cross of the line. Then again, he isn't the most stable person at present and you did just freak him out. In actuality, this is a favorable reaction.

"So, you think Dave would agree? You think he would want you to keep getting better?" It's not a fair way to word that. You loaded those questions and you know it. Brought a goddamn semi-automatic to a skeet shoot and left Sollux with a pop gun. He doesn't look thrilled about it but he does stow his crutch in his sylladex. The other one floats up from the floor into his hand, but he hesitates to put it away with the first one.

"Just one. For now." Fair enough. You'll take it.

"Cool. Go get whatever you were after. I'll put on a fresh pot."

"Regular?" he asks. You suppose it's your turn to concede some ground.

"Sure." A more agreeable look replaces his disgruntled one and he picks up where he left off, heading toward the living room albeit now on shakier legs.

terminallyCapricious [T C], began pestering timaeusTestified [T T].

TC: Yo My BrOtHeR. yOu AiN't BeEn On TeLlInG mE yOu In PoSsEsSiOn SoMe ArTwOrK wHaT nOtEwOrThY.

T T: I don’t have a single fucking clue about what you’re referring to.

T T: Not a damn iota.

T T: If you left a trail of breadcrumbs, it’s been pecked dry, not one stale morsel on this thought path to be found.

T T: Are you truly prepared to let me starve in the folkish woodland mystery that you dropped unannounced like a bastard on my doorstep?

TC: My BaD.

TC: TuNa BrO wAs AlL uP aNd HoLlErInG iN mY dIrEcTiOn.

TC: He TrYiNg To GeT hIs LiStEn On ThOsE tApEs WhAt To PlAy It BaCk On HiS mUsIc MaKeR aNd I wAs BeInG uncourteous WiTh ThE nOiSe MaKiNg.

TC: i Be SpEaKiNg On AbOuT tHeM cAsSeTtEs YoU gAvE hIm. ThEy GoT tHoSe DePiCtIoNs WhAt InSiDe ThEm PlAsTiC sAfE kEePeRs.

T T: What’s special about the cassette jackets?

TC: ThE aRtIsT wHaT dId Em, My BrOtHeR. hE gOt A kNoWiNg WhAt MoDeSt In On ThE sOcIaLs CiRcUlAr To My PuRpLe BrEtHrEn.

T T: You going to elaborate on that, bro-ski?

TC: Oh.

TC: YeAh, I cAn Be DoInG tHaT :o)

TC: FoLlOwErS oF tHe MiRtHfUl MeSsIaHs On HaViNg SoMe ThOuGhTs WhAt AiN't AlL aLiGnInG uP iN tHe SeNsE wHaT nAtIoNaL.

TC: bRoThEr WaS oN mAkInG sOmE vIsUaLiZaTiOnS hErEtIcAl SoUtH wIsE aFtEr He On SpEnT sOmE tImE mAnDaToRy LiKe NeAr ThE lAkEs WhAt HoLdInG mIrAcUlOuS gReAtNeSs.

T T: Your religion varies regionally?

TC: MoSt aggregiously.

TC: My AlLeY aNd ItS aLlIeS oF tHe WoRd WhAt We PrAiSe CoNsIdErEd A cUlT oN technicality.

T T: I’m shocked.

T T: Truly.

TC: I kNoW rIgHt?

TC: We GoT oUr InFlUeNtIaL oN bAcK iN tImEs WhAt PaSt.

TC: KeEpInG oN kEePiNg On WiTh ThE uNdErGrOuNd TiLl We AlL uP aNd ReJoIcInG iN tHe FrEeDoMs WhAt BrOuGhT wItH iT bY tHe MiRaClE mIgRaTiOn.

T T: What’s the difference?

TC: TaKe MoRe TiMe ThAn We GoT iF i Be BrEaKiNg DoWn ThE sCrIpTuRe PrOpEr At YoU.

TC: In ThE mInImAl It On BeInG a MaTtEr Of InTeRpReTaTiOn.

TC: We AiN't AbOuT lambasting hElLaCiOuS tHe Subjuggulation UnTo ThE cOlOrS wHaT bE rEsIdInG bElOw Us WiThOuT tHe Confrontatious JuStIfIcAtIoNs BeInG oN tHe SiDe RiGhTeOuS.

TC: SeE tHeRe A tHiNg BoUt TrOlL cUlTuRe, BrO. y'AlL aIn'T gOt MoRtAlItY oN tHe LeVeL oF highbloods.

TC: aIn'T nObOdY gOt ShIt On FuScHiA nOnE eItHeR tHoUgH.

TC: It BeEn On SpEcUlAtIoN hEr tyrian MoSt tyrannus bEeN iN tHe ExIsTeNtIaL wAy LoNg EnOuGh To Be MaKiNg SoMe WiCkEd SeRiOuS eDiTs To ThE wAyS sOcIeTy ThOuGhT bEfOrUs.

TC: *BeFoRe Us.

TC: OuR sCrIpTuRe GoT pRoPhEtS, dAwG.

TC: We RiCh In ThOsE wHaT sPeAkInG rHyMeS mOsT dOpE.

TC: In ThE tImEs WhAt LiViNg A tRoLl AlL hElLs IlLeGaL, wE aIn'T bEeN tHe MoSt CoNtEmPlAtIvE bUt ThE mEsSiAhS oN hEaRiNg PrAiSeS wHaT malcontwisted BeEn SeNdInG dOwN mIrAcLeS pUt Us BaCk On ThE pAtH sAnCtIfIeD tO uShEr DoWn ThE kInDa harsh whimsy wHaT virtue-toturous AnD immacu-cullable.

T T: So, you’re saying the guy who illustrated my brother’s jams is some kind of saintly herald of modern religious conversion?

TC: HaHaHaHa. NaH, tHe BrOtHeR wHaT bLeSsEd WiTh BrInGiNg ThE hArShWhImSiCaL wOrD tO occuela-glorious rEpReSeNtAtIoN aLl Up AnD gOt HiS hOrNs HaNdEd To HiM.

TC: In ThE mEtApHoRiCaL.

TC: Oh, BuT tHe LiTeRaLlY aLsO. :(

T T: Ouch.

TC: YeAh.

TC: HuRtS lIkE a MoThErFuCkEr.

T T: If this guy was just some dude who converted and got his ass kicked, why is he important?

TC: BrOtHeR gOt ThEm SkIlLs LiKe He Be GeTtInG tHe WhIsPeRs WhAt WeAvE tHe UnIvErSe StRaIgHt Up BeInG iN hIs AuDiToRy ClOtS.

TC: ThE lItErAl HoRn HaNdInG bEiNg A tHiNg WhAt HaPpEnEd To HiM bEfOrE gEtTiNg HiS lOoK oN oF tHe MiRaClEs. ThE lAnD yOu GoT yOuR rEaRiNg At WaSn'T kInD nOnE bAcK tHeN.

T T: It still isn’t albeit to a lesser extent.

TC: PrEaCh It, BrOtHeR.

TC: AiN't HeLp HiM tAkInG lOvErS tHe WrOnG wAyS wHaT aCcEpTeD aS mOsT hOlY bY hUmAnS oF tImE aNd PlAcE.

T T: Sure fucking wouldn’t. I’m not surprised that he took a beating or two.

TC: MuSeS mAkE fOoLs ThE bEsT oF mInD. yOu GoT a MuSe ReSoNaTiNg In A mInOr ChOrD hArMoNiOuS tO yOuR oWn DiViNe GiFtS, yOu FuCkEd.

T T: What do you mean by that?

TC: He AiN't GeT mUcH mInD oN hIm TiLl He DoNe CuLlEd HiMsElF.

TC: iMmOrTaLiTy OnLy BlEsSeD hIm In ThE pOsThUmOuS.

TC: bRoThEr GoT iN a BaD wAy. SoMeTiMeS iT bE lIkE tHaT, sAnCtI-sAcRiFiCiaL.

TC: It BrInG hIm BaCk To ThE jugglation aNd MaKe HiM gEt HiS nOtIcE oN oF tHe MiRaClEs, MaKe HiM a Vessel MoSt Ethereal, BuT iT gOt A hEaVy ToLl WhEn A mOtHeRfUcKeR gO oN pUtTiNg ThEiR fAiTh AnD pItY iN a MuSiC mAkEr To SaFe KeEp ThEiR rEd.

T T: Interesting.

T T: I never thought I’d be saying this, but you should talk to Rose some time. I think she’d find this fascinating in an anthropological way.

TC: :o)

T T: Feel free to hang onto those tapes for me when Mituna is done with them.

T T: I need to research something now, but good chat.

TC: BaCk At YoU, mAn.

timaeusTestified [T T], ceased pestering terminallyCapricious [T C].

* * *

caligulasAquarium [C A], began trolling twinArmageddons [T A].

CA: i believe this belongs to you.

CA:

> block quote.
> 
> Oops! Would you be a guppy and forward that to Sollux? Thanks :) <>

caligulasAquarium [C A], sent twinArmageddons [T A], file fish you were here dot jpeg.

T A: thanks.

CA: dont get used to it.

T A: prick.

caligulasAquarium [C A], ceased trolling twinArmageddons [T A.

* * *

timaeusTestified [T T], began pestering tentacleTherapist [T T].

timaeusTestified: You’re welcome.

tentacleTherapist: I can’t say that it is the most opportune time, however, this is a rather fascinating theological conversation I am having.

T T: Gamzee briefly mentioned you had sent him but did not elaborate on the initial conversation beyond it pertaining to some tapes your brother made.

timaeusTestified: Apparently, the artwork on the very specific tapes Mituna picked out from Bro’s older body of work is of mild relevance to his religion and piques his personal interest.

T T: Or so I speculate based on his wealth of knowledge on the subject.

tentacleTherapist: These tapes must be a recent event. I feel as though this is the type of thing you may have mentioned.

timaeusTestified: Mituna's reverse prophetic voyeuristic recall granted him some clarification the other day and he all but demanded I show him Bro’s older stuff.

T T: I hadn’t yet established enough links to bring it up in a memo without coming off as a lunatic.

tentacleTherapist: You said that in the past tense.

T T: Am I to presume that you have now established enough links to, at minimum, consult my opinion on the matter if not the group at large?

timaeusTestified: You may presume.

T T: Post Mituna coming into possession of these tapes, all of which have interconnecting artwork on the jackets by the same dude, Sollux brought up one of his partial-sensory premonitions.

T T: He had been under the impression that he was hearing a disk drive, however, now he speculates that the sound was his brother playing back these tapes.

T T: While not the most coherent individual at the time, Sollux did make some additional points that merit mentioning. While having conversational patty-cake with Mituna about his vision, Mituna revealed that Cal was slipping sweet susurrations Bro's way while he was mixing. He was also adamant about using the word _"they"_ in regard to _"them"_ making music in his vision. The implication here being that Cal was assisting in the creative process.

T T: Furthermore:

T T: He rambled off a string of thoughts about Roxanne having her eye on Bro. He thought it was important that she went to his show because it wasn’t something that she had to do. Seeing as she knew he was easily contacted at the diner by virtue of being there first, I’m not quick to disagree with him.

tentacleTherapist: That is a possibility, although I could justify it either way.

timaeusTestified: But wait, there’s more.

tentacleTherapist: Do tell.

timaeusTestified: Sollux went on to say that the way Mituna was listening to the tapes, rewinding and replaying parts, is the way he listens to music when he’s trying to figure out a bass line. It did strike me as odd behavior before Sollux brought it up, but the guy has a screw loose, who is to say what his baseline is.

T T: No pun intended.

tentacleTherapist: Sollux believes that Mituna is hearing something of importance within Bro’s music and attempting to isolate it.

timaeusTestified: That was his theory.

tentacleTherapist: I would say, given the emphasis on it, he's listening for what Bro deemed to be Cal's contribution.

timaeusTestified: I had that thought as well. Sollux said he didn't know what Mituna was listening for. It's possible he just didn't ask because his mind took it in a different direction.

tentacleTherapist: Which is...?

timaeusTestified: His wild speculation is that it involves the disks.

tentacleTherapist: On what grounds?

timaeusTestified: Not much to be honest, although, and I didn’t say this, I'm fairly certain that he’s not telling me something. That something is what I suspect is his actual basis for which this theory is more firmly rooted.

T T: Regardless, the train of thought that he is willing to admit to is as follows: Bro made music, Skaianet was surveying Bro but also claimed he was disconnected from the conspiracy, Bro knew he was being kept in the dark, Skaianet made the disks*.

tentacleTherapist: Why the asterisk?

timaeusTestified: Roxy found disk 0 of 2, which is a story in and of itself that you should ask her about, and while she and Sollux were fighting over it they scratched the label.

T T: There was a Crocker Corp label underneath it.

tentacleTherapist: Intriguing.

T T: These disks are beginning to look like a non-mutually agreed upon co-venture.

timaeusTestified: That is a needlessly convoluted way to say they kept stealing shit from each other.

T T: I’ll be using it later.

tentacleTherapist: By all means.

timaeusTestified: But back to Sollux.

T T: He’s dead-set on this to the point that he’s now looking into audio-related aspects of ~ahth.

tentacleTherapist: Should this side-venture be of concern given our limited time frame?

timaeusTestified: He’s otherwise hit a roadblock with the compiler, so I don’t see much harm in it at present, and it could come to be of use depending on how Bro’s music factors into this mess.

tentacleTherapist: It isn't outside the realm of possibility that he's acting on something from his vision at a subconscious level.

T T: This all seems well and relevant, but what does it have to do with Gamzee’s religious beliefs?

timaeusTestified: Right, so, get this.

T T: He dropped some details that led me to ponder the odds of this artist guy having been a troll in my bro’s crew with whom Bro may have been involved with.

tentacleTherapist: Involved you say? How romantically vague. Was it a tragic love affair wrought with secrets, star-crossed longing, and wanton stares that could only find the occasional release from the straining confines of society’s ire in throws of passion veiled by the night from prying eyes; or were they just fucking?

timaeusTestified: They were fucking.

T T: Anyway.

T T: In Bro’s letter he mentions that he had a friend who “got in a bad way” and overdosed. Now, when I read it, I thought the implication there was that the guy died.

T T: However, Gamzee said this artist guy “got in a bad way” and was mandatorily sent up to the great lakes region where he reconfirmed his faith and began making religiously oriented art.

T T: Following that, he then went on to make the poor life choice of returning to Texas and associating with my deranged kin, but I digress.

T T: A little research revealed that he was hospitalized involuntarily by his littermate after a drug overdose and did return to Houston where his opposing ideals were not taken well.

T T: So, it does line up.

T T: I realize the phrasing could be purely coincidental, but it has a higher than average probability of being an obscure reference if Bro is the one making it.

T T: Perhaps it’s just me, but an awful lot is circling around these tapes and Bro’s music. Not to mention, this troll dude did eventually die and it was under suspicious circumstances.

tentacleTherapist: I feel as though you are about to school me on these circumstances of which you speak.

timaeusTestified: Gamzee said this guy killed himself, which matches what I read about him, but it doesn’t match the coroner's notes. The only reason I thought to look this up is because I’m pretty sure I went to his funeral as a kid.

T T: It was after Bro started getting those headaches again, right when everything started going south for us.

tentacleTherapist: You think that your brother killed his secret lover in a psychotic break?

timaeusTestified: Is it not plausible?

tentacleTherapist: I never said it wasn’t plausible. I asked if that was what you believe had occurred.

timaeusTestified: It is a theory. He has the history of violence and instability for it.

tentacleTherapist: Not to mention it falls neatly into place with his internalized and outwardly projected homophobia.

timaeusTestified: My thoughts exactly.

T T: He hid away those cassette sleeves. The box as a whole felt very archival contextually, but to ignore its sentimental face value is a rookie move. Being someone's muse implies a certain level of intimacy that, personally, I don't think he was capable of. However, his music could have served as the psychological wall needed to stabilize their involvement.

tentacleTherapist: A possible narrative could have been that this artist was obsessed with your brother and his music for reasons that I will tentatively refer to as mystical, but Bro being the deeply closeted man that he was, would not fully reciprocate his affections. Thus, this created a cycle of obsession, indulgence, guilt, anger, and withdrawal. Whether these cycles within each of them always were or later became incongruous is a trivial matter. Ultimately, it culminated in an act of misplaced blame and unjust retribution.

timaeusTestified: Is that a plotline from your book?

tentacleTherapist: Not yet it isn’t.

T T: I imagine that your brother would have separated his thoughts between what he perceived to be his own and what he perceived to be Cal's. If he did indeed lend Cal enough power to commit something so heinous as murdering a lover, he may have either recoiled from it and resumed control, or submitted to it. Given that it seems out of character for him to surrender and you recall his mental decay to have been a gradual process, it is my opinion that the shock bought him some time. This provided, of course, that the incident was not a momentary lapse of will in an otherwise steady decline.

timaeusTestified: Content like this is why I reached out to you, Rose. I knew I could expect nothing less than a torrential downpour of unbridled hypotheticals to nurture this crop of theories, but not just any run of the mill flood, we didn't break a damn here; this shit was measured. We got this rain cloud calibrated by top members of the state and federal Departments of Weights and Measures to be dead-on balls accurate. These theories are rooted so solid it took migrant workers 30 minutes a pop to pry these certified organic quadruple markup babies out of the ground.

tentacleTherapist: Are we glossing over your brother’s remarkable ability to avoid the authorities?

timaeusTestified: I had intended to, but now that you mention it, if Skaianet and Betty Crocker were keeping tabs on him, then there is a chance that they had a hand in that.

tentacleTherapist: My mother did have the pull required to change his records. It would not be out of the question to consider that she, or for that matter, Mister Harley had the necessary connections to make the police forget about him.

T T: While much of this conversation is purely conjecture, I think we can safely say that the Captors are on the right track looking into Bro’s music. As for his interpersonal life, I’m not sure that it truly matters in the grand scheme of this.

timaeusTestified: If it does prove to provide any links between the clusters of these tangled fucks, I don’t see it being more than a minor addition.

tentacleTherapist: Perhaps we should reconvene Derse-side. Hal may have some thoughts on this. He also possesses your obsessive need for data acquisition, so I doubt he would mind looking into it further.

timaeusTestified: We should loop Dave in too.

T T: Actually, fuck it. Let’s just do a memo.

tentacleTherapist: I believe Dave is done being Hal’s captcha reader so we may have to send notice ahead of time in case he is with Fefferi.

timaeusTestified: Yeah, Hal sent over the character set info for Sollux earlier. It might still be downloading.

T T: I’ll send him the chat logs and give him a heads up.

timaeusTestified [T T], ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [T T].

* * *

tipsyGnostalgic [T G], began trolling twinArmageddons [T A].

T G: i made sum suggsgo 4 u.

T G: *suggestions.

T A: did you break into my husktop?

T G: u nevr changed yur password.

T A: they better be commented out this time.

T G: ;)

tipsyGnostalgic [T G], ceased trolling twinArmageddons [T A].

* * *

timaeusTestified [T T], began pestering tipsyGnostalgic [T G].

T T: Did Sollux give you that file?

T G: which file??

T T: The odd file that got slipped in with all those downloads that overheated Lil’ Sebastian.

T G: yeah im virus scanningh the shit out ofvit.

T G: cuz liek.

T G: its called unhackable dot ~ahth soooo.

T G: thas bait.

T T: I would say don’t run that.

T T: See what you can find out about it.

T G: thas the plan.

timaeusTestified [T T], ceased pestering tipsyGnostalgic [T G.]

* * *

gutsyGumshoe [G G], began trolling twinArmageddons [T A.]

G G: Do you have the results yet?

T A: i can't recover the emails, but i can confirm that they are disappearing.

T A: so you aren’t imagining it.

T A: did you find where the other network's physical hardware is?

G G: No luck. I even checked our older buildings currently under renovation.

G G: Lil Sebastian didn't pick up anything with whatever program thing Dirk installed on him.

T A: hmm.

T A: does he fit in the vents?

G G: Maybe? Why would that matter?

T A: you could try sending him through the ventilation system, the area might not be otherwise accessible.

G G: But you got in before without doing that.

T A: yes and the door i used is definitely closed now.

G G: I see.

G G: Will he be okay in there if I send him through?

T A: eh, probably.

G G: :/

G G: I'll think about it.

T A: by the way.

T A: you should hire someone two fix your guest network.

T A: and maybe consider using mac address filtering on your I O T wi-fi.

G G: My what?

T A: internet of things.

T A: it's the wi-fi all your phones and tablets are using.

G G: Oh.

G G: Thanks, I'll look into that.

gutsyGumshoe [G G], ceased trolling twinArmageddons [T A].

* * *

carcinogeneticist [C G], began trolling twinArmageddons [T A].

C G: ARE YOU THERE YET?

T A: yes, im in line.

C G: WHAT?

C G: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'RE IN LINE? DID YOU GET TO THERAPY YET OR NOT?

T A: therapy?

T A: i thought you said taco bell.

C G: I SWEAR TO GOG IF YOU WENT TO TACO BELL INSTEAD OF THERAPY I WILL DEFECATE ON YOUR HUSKTOP AND CLOSE THE LID.

T A: chill, kk.

T A: im in the waiting room.

T A: damn, now i want taco bell.

C G: IT'S GOOD THAT YOU ARE WANTING THINGS. I’M PROUD OF YOU, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE. GET ME A BURRITO.

carcinogeneticist [C G], ceased trolling twinArmageddons [T A].

* * *

timaeusTestified [T T], opened memo Wild Speculation 2.

timaeusTestified [T T], added group [Prosspit gang], to memo Wild Speculation 2.

timaeusTestified [T T], added group [Derse gang], to memo Wild Speculation 2.

timaeusTestified: Alright, let's try this again.

T T: Does anyone need a recap of where we left off before everyone started waking up?

A R: I’ve arranged a bulleted list that can be ordered by speaker, topic, or plausibility.

auto-Responder [A R], sent file, Now Thats What I Call Speculation v2, dot xls.

tentacleTherapist: If I recall correctly, we were wrapping up a discussion regarding my mother’s lab at Skaianet and about to circle back to what Mituna was doing with Bro’s music.

G C: I THINK WE SHOULD CIRCLE BACK TO DIRKS DADDY ISSUES 😈 .

timaeusTestified: Sorry, your trial subscription to my daddy issues has expired.

T T: Besides, we have better things to talk about.

A R: Jade did you receive a copy of the tapes?

G G: was i supposed to?

timaeusTestified: Hal, you're getting ahead of everyone.

T T: So, previously on this shit show, we just fucking asked Mituna what he was up to and found out he is indeed trying to isolate Cal's contribution to Bro's music.

T T: What he didn't mention, but what Latula figured out, is that he's using the glyphs like sheet music.

T G: thats suspicious as fuck.

G A: So Sollux Was On The Right Track About Adding Audio Elements To His Program.

G G: even if none of those glyphs are chords.

G G: thats A LOT of notes!

T G: im not about to claim that digital is better because im good with one asshole and dont need to have any more ripped into me but couldnt we just synthesize it.

T G: if he figures out enough of it or hell jade plays bass.

T G: she could help.

G G: i could!

G G: im great at playing by ear 😀 .

T G: eventually theyll figure out enough of it to make a cipher.

T G: couldnt we just do some computer bullshit to it and have it spit out the audio.

A R: If given a cipher I should be able to convert it.

A R: That would be faster than having Jade and Mituna play it manually.

G G: not to mention it wont have any buzz.

G G: if you dont mute your strings right then theyll make each other ring.

G G: if solluxs compiler is turning the sound waves into a numeric sequence.

G G: and using that raw sequence to generate letters then it will need to be very clear.

T G: shit what about note length.

T G: we cant have this all being whole notes.

G C: WHAT IF ITS SUPPOSED TO BE?

timaeusTestified: Those are both good points.

T T: We could ask Mituna if Bro elaborated on suggestions he appropriated to Cal or if it was a direct transcription.

timaeusTestified: If it's the latter, given the quality of Bro's recordings, I'm not sure that Hal will be able to accurately reproduce it.

T G: what tapes did Mituna already do.

T G: jade and i could work on figuring out the beats.

timaeusTestified: Hold on, I'll ask.

G C: SO WERE PUTTING OURSELVES AT THE MERCY OF THIS IDEA BEING RIGHT?

tentacleTherapist: If you have better ideas, please do voice them.

G C: THE LETTERS DONT TASTE LIKE HUMAN OR TROLL WORDS.

G C: it COULD BE SOMETHING ELSE.

G A: What Else Would It Be?

G C: I DONT KNOW BUT THAT DOESNT MEAN IT ISNT.

T T: Have you considered looking into it?

G C: I'LL GET RIGHT ON THAT WITH MY FULLY FUNCTIONAL GANDER BULBS.

T T: To notice it in the first place implied a level of sensory perception, visual or otherwise.

G A: Regardless Terezi Was Banned From The Library For Licking The Books.

timaeusTestified: Mituna started with the first tape chronologically.

T T: Y'all could start at the other end and meet in the middle.

T T: He said "the beat isn't" and then made a motion with his hand as if it was hopping from one point to another linearly.

A R: There are two sets of glyphs. Isn't it obvious that they need to be combined or do I have a faulty logic gate?

A R: If Skaianet's discs are corrupted and Crocker Corp's disks are intact, logic would dictate that Skaianet combined them incorrectly.

A R: With Roxy confirming that Aradia's book was in their possession, I'm calculating there being a chance upward of 97% that they located the replica temple and a chance upward of 99% that the lack of color coding is the source of their disks appearing to be bit flipped.

timaeusTestified: What do you mean by “appearing”?

A R: appear,  
intransitive verb. appeared, appearing, appears.  
To give the impression of being in a certain way; seem.

T T: Hal/ elaborate -word_usage: choice appearing.

A R: It seems that you've inquired about my choice in using the word "appearing" in my previous message.

A R: The word "appearing" was chosen to reflect the state of object: "game_diskette”. Value: “doubt”, has exceeded the limit for object: “game_diskette”, to remain in state: “true”, for sub-status: “resolved”, of status: "custom.garbage_text_why".

A R: Rude.

A R: There was no need to invoke my console commands.

timaeusTestified: It was faster.

tentacleTherapist: Hal, what leads you to believe that the code is not in fact bit flipped?

A R: Thank you, Rose. I will happily elaborate on that for you in my own words.

A R: I calculated a high probability of the green glyphs having been merged with the red/blue glyphs as if they were a single color, that is, sequentially. ~ahth script generally alternates between red, blue, and the default text color. While the red and blue portions of the glyphs are extremely similar, they do differ in places.

T T: Are there any characters present in the blue and red glyphs that are not present in the green glyphs?

A R: It seems that you've asked about data I do not have a record of.

timaeusTestified: That should have been uploaded. I'll double-check it.

G A: It Is Nearly Morning On The East Coast.

T T: Alright, Dave can work on getting the beat for the tapes last to first, Jade can pick up where Mituna left off going first to last. Mituna can focus on making the cipher. Hal can append this memo and send out Now thats what I call speculation v3 through Fefferi.

G G: can do!

T G: cool.

T T: I’ll clue in Sollux and Roxy in the meanwhile so they hash out what they need to tweak in the compiler.

T T: Terezi, I’ll send you some plans for the entry order that I’ve been working on. Look them over with John and get back to me on their feasibility.

G A: Could You Do The Same For Our Group With Karkat?

G A: He Is Frustrated With You For Leaving Him Out Of The Loop.

T T: That’s not necessary. We’ll be having a memo soon anyway to coordinate everyone.

G C: JUST GIVE NUBBY HORNS THE PLANS BEFORE HE POPS A BLOOD TUBE.

G A: I Would Personally Appreciate It.

T T: Fine, if it will placate everyone.

tentacleTherapist: On the off chance that this is a red-herring, I will look into archaic alphabets.

timaeusTestified: Sounds good.

T T: Any questions?

G C: WHY ARE YOU IN CHARGE ALL OF A SUDDEN?

T T: Because while you’re going to forget this happened in 3 hours, I’m already composing an email to remind you.

G C: 👿 .

T T: Alright, if that’s it, I’m going to close the memo.

tentacleTherapist: If I may.

T T: I believe I have a less convoluted solution that better addresses the concerns we have all expressed about these glyphs.

T T: I have made this point before, but I will restate that ancient glowing artifacts are generally associated with magical properties.

T T: Regardless of my position on it, they say that magic is merely science we do not yet understand. This is usually interpreted by way of not knowing how a device of convenience works and thus attributing its “powers” to the mystical arts.

T T: However, as seen in the War Hammer 40k universe with the Adeptus Mechanicus who have lost the ability to innovate, no longer masters of technology but merely worshipers of past advancements bound to a false sense of comprehension through dogma and ritual, it can be the inverse. That is to say, not attributing the device to magic, but the applied practices. I think it is worth trying an ancient solution for our modern problem.

G C: ARE YOU SUGGESTING WE SHOUT LATIN AT IT?

T T: No, and I would strongly advise against speaking Latin aloud in front of objects thought to have magical properties, in particular, books.

G A: You Are Paraphrasing The Show I Have Mixed Feelings About Again Arent You.

T T: I propose that we play an instrument in front of the glyphs and see what happens.

T T: As far as we know, Crocker Corp did not use Bro’s music as a means to generate the co-op disks. As Terezi suggested, for all we know, Bro’s music could be a red herring. This thought bears weight given that the Captors consider their visions to be foreboding.

G C: I SECOND THE IDEA OF MORE QUICKLY PROVING OURSELVES WRONG.

timaeusTestified: It is a good idea. Provided it triggers a reaction, it could save us a lot of time.

T G: if yall are done hogging the family brain cell i would like to point out that we dont know what happens to dream-selves when they wake up if they aren’t on derse or prosspit.

A R: Which is why we are sending you, Dave.

T G: i may make the ill-est beats of my generation but i dont play bass.

G G: i can show you 😀 .

G G: itll be fun!

G G: it wont be hard to teach you how to play a scale and hal could always help you out.

T G: true.

T G: aight.

T G: im down.

grimAuxiliatrix [GA], ceased responding to memo Wild Speculation 2.

tentacleTherapist: There is my warning.

T T: Dirk, do still remind me to look into archaic writing systems, please.

timaeusTestified: Will do.

tentacleTherapist [T T], ceased responding to memo Wild Speculation 2.

timaeusTestified: Okay, new goal.

T T: Jade, crash course Dave in enough bass playing so that he can test the moon glyphs. I’ll message you earthside to jog your memory about testing the glyphs on your island.

T T: You’ll be able to distract Bec again, right?

G G: i should be able to.

G G: he loves to play fetch.

G G: i just have to throw it really really far :)

T T: Awesome.

T T: Our other plans are more or less the same.

T T: Any closing remarks?

gallowsCalibrator [GC], ceased responding to memo Wild Speculation 2.

T T: I’ll take that as a no.

timaeusTestified [T T], closed memo Wild Speculation 2.

#  ==> Be Dave.

It isn't long before Jade shows up at your tower. You breathe a sigh of relief when you see that she brought a normal bass with her instead of that double-neck monstrosity.

"Okay, step one, hold the bass," she says with enthusiasm as she hands it to you. It isn't heavy, but it's about twice as heavy as you expected it to be and it catches you by surprise.

"Damn, this thing is fucking solid." The comment has her giggling and you think that she might have purposely not warned you. For a moment, you marvel at the sleek instrument before slipping the strap over your head. Damn, this thing is a behemoth. Or maybe not? “Are all basses the same size?” you ask without making it sound like you’re intimidated by this thing.

“Nope, The two most common sizes are standard and short scale. Standards are 34 inches, although a lot of five-string basses have an extra inch. Short scale basses vary a bit. Usually, they’re somewhere around 30.” She rattles off while trying to access an inconveniently placed outlet.

“So this a standard?”

“Yup.” You hear the flick of a switch and look up to see Jade excitedly setting up the older looking amp. She jams an aux cable into it and turns to do the same for the guitar but suddenly stops.

"It goes the other-- oh shoot. You're left-handed." Her mouth scrunches to the side in thought at the apparent predicament.

"Does that matter? Can't you just flip it?" you ask.

"All the strings will be backwards if you do that. Plus, you'll keep hitting the volume and tone knobs." You were about to ask if them being backward was really a big deal but the additional issue has you dropping it.

"No worries, home fry, it's fine. Wouldn't be the first thing I've had to do righty. You have better odds of finding bigfoot than readily available lefty scissors." You flip the bass around and readjust the strap while Jade plugs it in. Despite the awkwardness of your less dexterous hand, it's pretty cool.

"So, this," she gives the string nearest to your body a pluck. "is your E string, then A, D, and G." Your eye twitches with each sound.

"Hold on a sec, this bitch is wack." You pluck the E string again, give it a listen, and then follow it up the fretboard to find the corresponding tuning peg.

"Is it really? It doesn’t sound too bad to me." You glance in her direction and catch the slightly insulted look on her face.

"It’s not like,” you pause to play the string again and adjust it a little more. “wildly off or anything,” Another pause interrupts your train of thought while you listen to the A string. “I didn’t mean it like that." You twist the peg back a bit and this time it rings true. “Saying it was wack,” You barely change the D string. “Might have been a bit much.” You finish up with G more easily now that you have the hang of it. Strumming the strings all together goes poorly but when you play them in succession a look of pleasant surprise comes over Jade’s face.

"Oh, that actually does sound better.”

“Yep. Hashtag, musically gifted, hashtag, burdened with the cursed knowledge of what pitch my bro farts in.” You punctuate the sentence with some finger guns for flavor.

“Dave, uck that's so gross.” The chiding turns into laughter, so you know it didn’t skeeve her out too much. She quickly recovers. “It's a shame our towers reset when we wake up. As soon as we get you back on earth, you need to tune all of my instruments!"

“Yeah, okay,” a small but genuine smirk tugs the corner of your mouth. “So, back to bass-sics with this bass. School me senpai.”

“Okay first,” She clasps her hands together enthusiastically. “It’ll probably be easier for you to anchor your thumb on the pickup.” She points at it to be helpful, although you do know what a pickup is.

“Got it. What next?” 

“You don’t want your thumb wrapped around the neck like that. You want it underneath.”

“Like this?” you ask.

“No, it’s more like, here let me..." Her words trail off and she reaches forward like she’s about to position your hand herself, but suddenly stops and pulls back. “um, if that’s okay with you, of course.” You don’t answer right away. There is a beat where your brain catches up, ascertaining this sudden change in behavior from your friend who usually doesn’t hesitate to wrap you in a bone-crushing hug.

“Yeah, no yeah, it’s...it’s cool.” It comes out soft with a thinly visible layer of guilt. Your response doesn’t do much for the now gloomy tone of the conversation.

“Sorry about that, by the way. I didn’t mean to upset you,” she apologizes. You were hoping to ignore that whole thing, but this is Jade. You should have known she would want to make it right instead of sweeping it under the rug.

“It’s not your fault. I just lost my cool for a second there. Didn’t eat my Wheaties that morning. You know how it is.” She doesn’t look super convinced. “Really, I’m fine, it’s all good. It’s so good that...that I’m leveling up our friendship. Boom, hand privileges unlocked. New ability gained. You are now certified to bask in the glory of my calluses.”

“Oh, callus buddies!” She holds up her left hand for a high five that you meet with only a moderate amount of difficulty due to the new experience of having an entire fucking bass guitar in the way. It lightens the mood and soon enough you're back to broadening your musical know-how. Jade goes over the fretboard, teaches you a couple of scales, and gives you a few pointers on how to get a clearer sound. It’s pretty fun, actually. You know two other bassists, so you don’t think you’ll be taking it on as a hobby, but maybe you’ll give guitar a whirl someday or something.

You walk her back to the transportalizer, at first thinking that you'll need to follow her all the way to her tower to reacquire her bass until she informs you that 1. it won't disappear until she wakes up again, and 2. she thought ahead and took that from Mituna's room. The reveal launches you into a ramble about being the densest member of your friend circle because with it comes the realization that the fun interlude is almost over, and you're getting anxious about all this shit again. Jade humorously assures you that it's only by comparison that you look dumb because you hang out with so many brainiacs. You joke about being socially graded on a curve and stretch that into another torrent of speech that you only half-listen to. Jade doesn't see through your mask, not completely you think, and you're thankful for it. It's bittersweet when you finally reach the gold platform in the bowels of Derse that will send her back to Prosspit.

Normally you would be bracing for the contact you've been growing accustomed to from her, but now you find Jade hesitating. Even though you implied that you freaking out from her touching you wasn't the norm, she still knows for sure now that you do have some damage around that. Rose would probably have something to say both about how the situation makes you feel bad (Despite not being entirely at fault here. You are after all a victim of child a- of...of some stuff. You've just got a bit of damage from some shit.), and about the way you handle it by dodging any real dialogue via your sense of humor. It gets through tho. You open your arms and throw a classic "What, no hug?" Jade's way. It earns you a smile and a set of arms wrapped tight around you. You're keyed up more than you even knew. The contact makes your chest tight and thoughts you tried to paint over on the wall of your mind start bleeding through like they're written in permanent marker. You maybe hug Jade back just a little too tightly.

Eventually, she does go back, and you head to the surface to meet up with Hal. The time alone walking through the catacombs and stairwells gives you the opportunity to calm down, but at the same time, the quiet lets your thoughts speak louder. In the end, you reason that it's pointless to harp on anything until you see if Rose's idea works. You repeat it to yourself in various phrasings before straightening up, stepping into the city, and remembering that the moon transportalizer is back the way you just came.

#  ==> Be Sollux.

“I know you red it, but I wrote it,” You say, slightly winded, as you take another series of difficult steps while leaning heavily on the one remaining crutch you’ve allowed yourself to use. You can feel the way Roxy rolls her eyes at you, having finally brought that point into your argument about Aradia's flarp manual and the imagery in the main hall of the frog temples.

“You only wrote part of it and it doesn’t even matter that some words aren't standard Alternian, translation shmanslation. The pictures are the only thing in stone.” You’re far too tired to call her out on the pun. Even though you know it can’t be more than fifteen minutes each way, it feels like you’ve been walking back from the 7 Eleven for eons. You’ve been tempted to use your psy-onics since shortly after leaving the store, but have been holding off. You’re having such a satisfyingly normal argument with Roxy over what the images in the frog temple mean concerning the glyph’s assembly and you’re not about to let your stupid body spoil it. Plus, apparently, you have dignity again and would rather not look like a weak piece of shit in front of your kismesis. You've made it this far, what's a few more hundred feet? You can even see the apartment complex now.

Crap, you can also see the stairs. You had forgotten about those. The struggle is real as you climb them, and it halts the conversation cold. Every step is a group effort of pulling yourself up with the prong rail and pushing your legs to fucking move. You can’t believe you let Roxy goad you into this “quick trip”. It’s sweet relief when you finally collapse face down onto the lounge plank and let out a groan.

“Get your own plank,” You complain into the cushion when she moves your noodle legs to sit on the very end. They fall back down across her lap and for a moment you’re content to deal with it until her fingers dig into the meaty part of one of your legs and have you turning over with a yelp. “What the fuck?”

“Oh shut up and let me help you.” She resumes digging her fingers into your calf, and again you wince.

“How is strangling my movement fibers helping? Ow, watch it.”

“Just give it a second.” The sore spot that she’s pressing into starts to loosen up and just when it’s bordering on feeling good, she moves to a new one. “I didn’t think you’d be stubborn enough to walk the whole way,” she says more softly than before but still somehow in a way that implies it's your fault. You think that may have been an apology despite the insult.

“You literally bet me two Appleberry Blasts that I couldn’t do it.”

“You know, you talk better when you’re being pissy with me.” Did you just get double flimflammed into bettering yourself? How dare she.

“Don’t try to change the subject. You- ah, jeegus, you owe me.” She smiles and laughs behind closed lips but does ease up a bit. Slowly she kneads the ache out of your lower legs and helps you stretch whatever the fuck a hamstring is, if trolls even have those. Roxy insists that pushing your leg back in a suggestive manner is a legitimate stretch. You think she's messing with you. It hurts before the muscles eventually ease themselves so you guess maybe it could be a real thing. Either way, you are exhausted and rubbery, but not in as much pain as you could be by the end of it. With you taken care of, she goes to check on Dirk. He was about to see if Dave had made any progress when Roxy dragged you out for exercise.

When she comes back, it’s with no word about Dave. Dirk is still checked out and only vaguely aware of himself earthside. Your disappointment must be obvious. A gentle touch coaxes you to get comfortable next to her. She flips on the news to check out the latest going on with the Crocker Corp scandal. You tune in and out of it.

It's crazy how you can flip so seamlessly like this. Less than an hour ago Roxy was telling you where to shove your ideas. Now you have your head in her lap while she idly scritches your hornbeds. You lean into her hand when she stops. She laughs, then runs her hand from your shoulder to your hip and back up again, letting her nails lightly scratch your side along the way. It pulls a small rumble from your chest that has her making a pleased sound in return.

You're too much of a mess still, but you've cobbled together enough sanity to at least be aware enough to think forward about you and her. You had a conversation with Kk earlier about the teams for the game. You knew that even if he wasn't originally a team leader, he would have probably wormed his way into it because he has a desperate need for leadership and control. Group projects, outings, career aspirations, etc. So, anyway, you were right. He said Dirk's plans were very technical and didn't give enough weight to interpersonal relationships. He had largely made the teams by location. You and Karkat could both see the logic in it, but this was all online anyway. Karkat made some suggestions that Dirk actually took into consideration. The one you care about is Roxy getting swapped out for Jade so that you aren't on the same team as your Kismesis.

You aren't ready to get back to where you were with Roxy yet. Right now it's all petty jabs and annoying each other, pitch flirting, but without the expectation of it going any further beyond taunting. You thought it would frustrate Roxy, but it doesn't seem to. Maybe she's not ready either. You know something has been up with her. You don't have the strength to address it, but you're pretty sure Dirk has noticed too, so hopefully he's handling that. You don't think the reason is just you being like you are, but hopefully, once the game starts, once you see Dave again and can truly begin to move on from this, hopefully, you being less awful will help her too. The competition will be good for both of you. You're aware enough now to think about that.

"We're all indebted to Rose now." The sudden sound of speech behind you, has you jumping. How the hell does Dirk walk so quietly? "She was right. We just had to play music in front of the damn thing."

"That's fucking hilarious." Roxy snorts. "Spooky temple rules actually worked in the spooky temple."

"Don't say it's ironic," you quickly interject, pointing at Dirk who is definitely now contemplating it beneath his blank expression. "That is not situational irony." It isn't him that challenges you, however.

"You're wrong, babe. It totally is." The sheer amount of betrayal happening above you warrants the effort of you sitting up.

"No, it isn't." You glare at her. She's pulling your frond. She has to be.

"Yeah. It is." Her voice has an unwavering air of confidence to it. So much so, that you briefly second guess yourself.

"What? No, sthituational irony is, is when the _opposite_ of the expected happens. Spooky temple rules working in the spooky temple is the expected." You’re definitely right about this.

"Exactly, and we didn't expect this to work soooo..." she lets her sentence trail while wearing a smirk that says 'checkmate'.

"You're, ugh, that's the wrong-- it's the temple and the--" You cut yourself off with an exasperated sigh and throw up your hands before sinking back into the lounge plank with crossed arms. You weren't winning that.

“Irony notwithstanding, Hal has created a cipher for the moon glyphs and is generating the sequence as we speak,” Dirk says, getting back on topic.

“What file format?” You ask the question almost entirely out of formality. Whatever audio format they are thinking of using is going to be too big for your very illegal and very slow transmission channel.

“Lossless audio was what Dave suggested.” It’s what you need, but it isn’t feasible.

“Oof, yeah, that’s going to take forever to send,” Roxy chimes in. You were going to say that a file that big will get noticed and intercepted, but yeah, that too.

“Hmm, we do have Dave’s laptop. Hal could send over the file he’s using to generate the notes and we could import it on our end instead. What I don’t know about Dave's mixing software, I’m sure he could tell me.”

“It’s a text file?” You ask. Dirk nods. That could work.

“Legit,” Roxy says before pausing to take a swig of what you think is that nasty bubblegum vodka. You wrinkle your nose and glance at Dirk, forgetting that he probably can’t tell that you’re looking at him. Dirk opens the front door and moves to lean against its frame, turning away to light a cigarette and keep the resulting smoke out of his apartment. “Roxy, it’s 1:30 pm,” He says, making a subtle amount of suggested eye contact with you afterward. Maybe he _can_ tell.

“Yup, Jade should be awake now,” She says in a not entirely oblivious way that suggests she is evading Dirk’s implication. Dirk turns away again to take another drag and Roxy goes for one more swallow of vodka while he isn’t looking. “So, what about her glyphs?” Dirk doesn't answer Roxy's question right away. Instead, he stares at her over his glasses. Only when she sighs and puts the flask away does he continue.

“Mituna’s character count is the same as both the red and blue glyphs but has a number of unique characters equal to the combined number of unique characters present in the moon glyphs. Those turned out to be chords for Dave, so we should probably mention that to Jade. Regardless, Hal still needs to see the glyphs in order to generate the sequence."

"Why?" you ask when Dirk takes too long to elaborate on the statement.

"They dim when their corresponding note is played. How long they dim is how long the note plays."

“So, wait,” Roxy starts as a thought dawns on her. “If Skaianet used Bro’s music to figure out how to make the disks because they only knew about the fake ruins, how did Betty Crocker make the co-op disks?”

“I’m not sure that it matters at this point,” Dirk says with a shrug before putting out his cigarette even though there are still a few drags on it. There is a chance this not knowing might bite you in the ass later, but for now, it isn’t all that important.

“Same,” you agree. When Dirk comes back, he pauses in the doorway and stares blankly ahead. He’s been dual wielding realities this whole time.

“Hal says he’ll send out the text file soon. While we wait on Jade’s contribution, he wants you to test out a hunch he has.”

“He wants me to merge the red and blue glyphs.”

“Yeah, how’d you know?” It’s a very stupid question for Dirk to ask.

“How do you think?” He gives you a ‘fair enough’ nod in reply. Honestly, though, it was only an idea that just came to you at that very moment in a sudden onset of keen intuition.

It is suggested that you take a nap while you can. You’ve been kept fairly in the loop and Roxy says she'll clue you into anything new that comes up in the memo She and Dirk begin setting up. After all that walking earlier and the hours of debugging that preceded it, you are quick to agree. Dirk offers you his bed so that he and Roxy don’t disturb you. It’s a bit weird, but your body doesn’t seem to care and soon enough you fall asleep. Dave is waiting for you on the other side of consciousness. Your senses first pick up the way he is sitting next to you, leaning back against the wall where a headboard would be if your bed had one. It reminds you of that night he stayed with you until you fell asleep listening to his music. The dream shifts and suddenly you’re lying against him. His fingers brush through your hair. He calls you sunshine as you’ve come to notice he does sometimes. He calls you a lot of things, but he seems to like that one. A feeling of ‘Dave is doing better’ registers and flips a switch in your thinksponge. You purr and arms come around you, only making you purr more. You stay like that for a long time. It’s a murky limbo of contentment that you wish you would never leave. Unfortunately, you do. You wake up and the cold harsh reality of your life punches you hard in the gut. In the vulnerability of waking, you find yourself choking up, thinking the same things you’ve thought before; how much you miss him, how it wasn't enough, how he was so close but you couldn’t wake up. You wrap your arms around yourself and curl forward as you try to regain your composure. You can do this. You have to. Dave needs you and so do a lot of other people. Even if this destroys you, you have to do it. You’ll see Dave again. He promised. You cling to the memory of your vision, hoping he knows something you don’t, hoping that he truly knows you’ll see him again. You have to believe it. You’ll believe it or die trying. A few more moments of being awake grants you the clarity to see how desperate and crazy that makes you sound. Still, you have to do this.

When you don’t find a clock in Dirk’s room, you fish out your palm husk. You’ve either been asleep for a very long time or a very short time. Checking the date reveals that you have been asleep for a very long time.

You throw back the covers and shuffle into the bathroom, then shuffle back into Dirk’s room to grab a towel out of the closet. How long have you been staying with him that it doesn’t feel unbearably weird to invade his space like this? What even is time at this point. Your sense of time hasn’t been right since... You don’t want to think about that.

When you finally make yourself somewhat presentable and head into the kitchen for coffee you find Dirk and Roxy having a moment at the kitchen table. You ruin it entirely.

“Morning,” you say, despite it being the afternoon again, as you slowly make your way to the thankfully perked coffee on sore legs.

“You’re going to need more than coffee,” Dirk says in a flat yet ominous tone. You turn to look at him, coffee pot raised but not yet having poured a cup.

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“Yes, but no. The data came through. It’s all on you now.” Without a word you set the pot back down and take the few steps to the fridge where you know Roxy has likely put the energy drinks she owes you. You exchange a cold one for one of the warm ones you left in your sylladex and crack it open. You are indeed going to need more than coffee for this. With that thought, you throw back more of your medication than you are prescribed and wash it down with several gulps of Appleberry Blast.

You’re doing it. You’re making it happen.

* * *

twinArmageddons [T A], opened memo technical updates.

twinArmageddons [T A], added group [nerds] to memo technical updates.

twinArmageddons [T A], banned [nerds], from responding to memo technical updates.

T A: sequencing red audio.

T A: exporting red glyph audio.

T A: red glyph audio converting two binary.

T A: sequencing blue glyph audio.

T A: exporting blue glyph audio.

T A: blue glyph audio converting two binary.

T A: merging.

T A: merge failed, retrying.

T A: merge failed, retrying.

T A: merge successful.

T A: the red and blue glyphs make the co-op disks.

T A: code uploaded two server for review.

T A: sequencing green glyph audio

T A: still sequencing.

T A: exporting green glyph audio.

T A: green glyph audio converting two binary.

T A: merging.

T A: still merging.

T A: this will take a while.

* * *

tipsyGnostalgic [T G], began trolling twinArmageddons [T A].

T G: unmute us 😠 .

T A: no.

T A: did you figure out what the betty crocker file does yet?

T G: its some weird kinda ~ahth tha runs a hidden subarutine.

T G: srves protected.

T G: *servers.

T A: let me guess.

T A: it's unhackable.

T G: yep.

T G: still gonna try few things tho.

T G: btw i liberated sum of ur ~ahth books.

T A: what.

T A: whatever.

T A: just don't run that virus.

tipsyGnostalgic [T G], ceased trolling twinArmageddons [T A].

* * *

carcinogeneticist [C G], began trolling twinArmageddons [T A].

C G: DID YOU EAT TODAY?

T A: what day is it?

C G: I’M COMING OVER.

T A: i'm not a wiggler, i can feed myself.

C G: LIKE HELL YOU CAN. MITUNA SAYS YOU HAVEN'T COME OUT OF THE APIARY CLOSET ALL DAY.

T A: how would he know?

T A: he spends weekends at his quadrants.

C G: IT'S TUESDAY.

C G: I’M COMING OVER.

T A: fine but can u do me a favor first?

C G: ARE YOU LEGITIMATELY ASKING FOR A FAVOR OR TRYING TO SEND ME ON A HONKBEAST CHASE?

T A: ugh, nevermind.

C G: NO, OKAY, WHAT IS IT?

twinArmageddons [T A], sent carcinoGeneticist [C G], file check this shit out dot ~ahth.

T A: wait no, not that one.

twinArmageddons [T A], sent carcinoGeneticist [C G], file unhackable dot ~ahth.

T A: run that and tell me what it does two your husktop.

T A: it's probably not a virus.

T A: maybe.

C G: FUCK YOU. I'LL BE THERE IN 20 MINUTES TO FUNNEL WATER INTO WHICHEVER ORIFICE IS MOST CONVENIENT FOR ME SO DO YOURSELF A FAVOR AND TAKE A FUCKING SIP.

T A: that's a fetish you know.

carcinogeneticist [C G], ceased trolling twinArmageddons [T A].

* * *

tentacleTherapist [T T], began pestering timaeusTestified [T T].

tentacleTherapist: At Roxy’s suggestion, with my being back at the house, I’ve snuck into my mother’s lab to examine the machine she came across.

T T: You may have a bit of last-minute work ahead of you.

tentacleTherapist [T T], sent timaeusTestified [T T] file meteor impact times dot txt.

timaeusTestified: Great.

tentacleTherapist [T T], ceased pestering timaeusTestified [T T].

* * *

twinArmageddons [T A], has resumed responding to memo technical updates.

T A: merge complete.

T A: uploading two server for review.

T A: compiling discs.

twinArmageddons [T A], closed memo technical updates.


End file.
